


It Can't Rain Forever

by MyGoldenChances



Series: Things We Lost in the Fire-verse [2]
Category: Waitress - Bareilles/Nelson
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 17:04:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18627511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyGoldenChances/pseuds/MyGoldenChances
Summary: New year, new relationship, new changes. Jenna has her beautiful daughter, friends she calls family, and now the love of her life. But it's a delicate balance, keeping it all in line. She's learning.[Sequel to Things We Lost in the Fire][M for language and references]





	1. January - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well...this happened much more quickly than I expected! I've fought with this concept for weeks, trying to decide how I was going to tie up the loose ends. I've got this story outlined, though, and I hope that it will ultimately be as satisfying to read.
> 
> I'll be honest, I'm nervous this won't be as well received as Things We Lost in the Fire. So, feel free to leave feedback always. Any at all, as long as it's constructive. 
> 
> In any case, thank you for going on this journey with me, and I hope you all enjoy!

****Jenna’s eyes shot open, the sunshine pouring into the bedroom windows an unwelcome sign. Heart rate rising, she snatched her phone from the nightstand and squinted at the time through strained vision.

_9:32_

“Shit,” she breathed. Then, tossing the covers off, she scrambled to the bathroom, wondering how the hell she was going to explain herself to Joe.

Why hadn't he called to yell at her already?

After quickly relieving herself on the toilet, she fumbled around the cabinets and drawers, frantically searching for toothpaste. When the hell had she moved everything?

Why were there two toothbrushes in the cup in the sink?

And why did she have aftershave?

Shaking her head, she carried on, furiously brushing her teeth and trying to wake herself up enough for the five minute shower she was going to have to force herself into.

However, just as she was grabbing a clean towel from the closet (When did she buy grey towels? And didn’t she have a cabinet instead?) there was the opening of a door and a familiar voice calling from the bedroom.

“Jenna?”

She stopped and spat in the sink, staring at the wall for a minute. Jim?

It was in that moment she looked up at the medicine cabinet that wasn’t hers and remembered: she was at his place.

“In here,” she called, then resumed brushing her teeth.

Then he was peeking into the bathroom, hair a mess, t-shirt and boxers, two mugs in hand.

He stared at her strangely for a moment before announcing, “I made coffee.”

“I don’t have _time_ for coffee,” she admonished as she hurried over to the shower to turn it on. “How the hell did I do this?! I’m gonna be two hours late.”

“Uh, Jenna--”

“God, Joe’s gonna _kill_ me,” she muttered, starting to unbutton Jim’s shirt that she’d evidently fallen asleep in. “Then Becky’s gonna kill me.”

“Jenna--”

She reached into the linen closet for a clean washcloth. “How am I not already fired?!” she panicked. “I’m definitely not getting that promotion now.”

But Jim set down the coffee mugs on the dresser just outside the bathroom door and insisted, “ _Jenna_.”

“What?!” she snapped.

He placed his hands calmly on her shoulders and said, “It’s your Saturday off.”

“But I--” she started to argue with him, then cut herself off as the words registered. “What?”

The sleep fog began to lift then, and memories of the previous night came flooding back.

Dropping Lulu off at her friend Sarah's for a birthday slumber party. Picking up a bottle of wine on her way to Jim’s. Cooking dinner with him. Taking dessert to the bedroom. The crappy movie they got back out of bed to watch, to which they both fell asleep and dragged themselves back to bed when they woke to rolling credits.

“You don’t work today,” he repeated.

“Oh…” she breathed, shoulders slackening. Why else would she be waking up at his place? She felt stupid. “You're right, I don’t.”

Jim reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and chuckled. “Long hours still getting to you?”

Jenna nodded. She’d been pulling extra shifts and more weekends since after Thanksgiving, and it was the middle of January. After two nonstop weeks, this was her first Saturday off in almost a month.

“Apparently so,” she noted, counting up the times in her head and realizing she’d slept a solid ten hours since last night.

Almost double what she’d been consistently getting.

“I guess I’m just so used to having to be up and going every day,” she surmised on a yawn as she walked over to turn the shower off. “I can barely remember the last time I got to sleep in.”

She stepped back over to where he stood and closed her eyes as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “You needed the rest.”

Jenna couldn't help but laugh at herself then. “Evidently I didn’t get enough if I’m running around without my head screwed on right.”

“It’s called coming out of a REM state,” he told her as she followed him out of the bathroom. “No one’s head is right after a deep sleep.”

“I guess that’s reassuring?”

Jim reached around to the dresser for one of the coffee mugs and offered it to her. “Well, if it isn’t...liquid energy.”

“Oh, I love you,” she mumbled into her cup, voice gravelly, as she took it from him and downed a hearty sip. She glanced up at him then and added, “You, too.”

He laughed, and she couldn't help but feel a flood of warmth at the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. That and the fact that he'd evidently bought her favorite coffee creamer.

“I see how I rank next to coffee in this relationship,” he teased, reaching for his own cup and taking a sip.

“Hmmm,” she hummed, mug still to her lips. Then, as seriously as she could, she told him, “I’m leaving you for Colombian roast.”

Playing along, he sighed melodramatically. “I knew this couldn't last long.”

“I’m sorry,” she continued the charade, “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

They were turned around now, Jenna with her back to the dresser and Jim facing her. Jenna set her coffee down behind her, watching him, waiting.

The pair stared at one another before bursting into giggles, Jim placing his coffee down next to hers and scooping her up into a bear hug. Soon, they were sharing sweet kisses. Jenna indulged, delighting in the simplicity of being with him. Their moments like this had been few and far between since he’d moved back to Stanton Grove, and she couldn’t help but enjoy.

His hand slid up the large shirt, and she shivered as it skimmed past the panties she’d slipped back on, up and across the soft flesh of her ribcage. The other hand mimicked the same movement on the opposite side, and she found herself kissing him more eagerly.

He seemed to be in tune with her, because it was only moments before he was slipping the underwear down her legs and freeing his hands again so he could reach up to begin unbuttoning the shirt. He was down to the third button when she had to interrupt him to slip her hands beneath the cotton t-shirt he’d worn to bed and lift it over his head. He helped without hesitation, lifting his arms as it came off, and then tossing it to the side. His boxers weren’t far behind.

Then she was guiding him toward the bed, almost lazily, taking pleasure in the knowing look on his face; the anticipation of what they’d initiated. He let her push him down onto the mattress, shoving sheets and blankets out of the way as they situated themselves. She was above him then, straddling his waist, watching him lick his lips just before the button-down she wore went flying to the floor.

His hands found her body again, slowly making their way up her back as she leaned over for more kisses. As she sat back up, he began to stare up at her. That reverent, awe-filled, wanton stare of his that _still_ made her blush.

“What time do you have to go?” he asked softly.

Jenna’s gaze fell to the clock on the nightstand at the left side of the bed (his side, as she came to learn). She didn’t have to pick up Lulu until almost lunchtime.

“I think I’ve got a little while,” she assured.

It wasn’t long before they were moving together, feeling one another, drinking in the pleasure and basking in the time before real life called again.

 

* * *

 

“Broccoli or snap peas?”

It had been a relaxing start to the day for Jenna. After a toe-curling round between the sheets, she and Jim had hauled themselves to the shower to clean up. Once dressed and ready, they’d bundled up and took advantage of the rare sunny day to walk down the street to what was becoming their new favorite bakery. (Only for the bagels and scones, of course, according to Jim. They couldn't hold a candle to Jenna’s pies or muffins.) The two brought back cinnamon raisin bagels and cut up fresh fruit. By the time they’d eaten, however, Jenna had to tear herself away from their bubble to retrieve Lulu.

Lulu, who was still completely clueless of where her mother had actually been on her childless night when Jenna had arrived to pick her up. Not even a suspicion as Jenna pulled up, just on time as she’d had to drop off her overnight bag at home on the way. Just excitement as Lulu showed off newly painted nails. (“Sarah helped! And Emily added the sparkles.”) Jenna had listened intently, trying not to let her mind drift to the very _grown-up_ slumber party she’d had while her daughter was trying to tell her about Disney movies, cookie baking, board games, Nintendo Switch, and other innocent commodities she’d partaken in.

Thankfully, Jenna had the distraction of grocery shopping that needed to be done at her disposal. And that is how she and the ten-year-old found themselves stopping at the store on the way home.

“Snap peas,” came Lulu’s decisive answer as she pushed the cart--a task she’d insisted on. “We’ve had broccoli twice this week.”

“Fair enough.”

Jenna reached for the bag of green veggies and tossed it into the cart. After bagging a few other items--a bell pepper, some ginger, zucchini--she meandered through the produce section toward the fruit. She’d grabbed a plastic bag and was reaching for plums, not paying too much attention, when a man she hadn't even noticed was there reached at the same time.

They nearly collided, and she looked up at him, an apology ready on her lips.

Except he beat her to it. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Go ahead.”

“No, no,” she insisted, “I really wasn’t paying attention. You were here first.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, pointing to the fruit. “Because I can--”

“Go right ahead,” she told him, turning around and guiding Lulu to move the cart so she could take a step back and give the man space.

He finished bagging up the plums and, just before turning away, he paused, eyes scanning over her; never lingering too long anywhere, but lingering just enough that she understood the meaning behind the dazzling smile he flashed her.

She had to admit, upon getting a good look at him, that he was attractive. Dark skin, contrasted by bright olive green eyes, and a cheerful grin. If she wasn't with her daughter, and if she wasn’t already sold on the man she’d woken up to this morning, she might have engaged him in conversation. Ended up casually running into him at the check register and having a laugh about it. Then she might flirt with him in line until _maybe_ they exchanged numbers.

But frankly, she wasn’t interested.

She watched him walk away before resuming her business. Within seconds, however, Lulu was sidling up to her.

“Oh, my god, mom,” she whispered, “he was totally checking you out!”

“Lulu!” Jenna whipped around to face her and then quickly scanned the area to make sure no one else was in earshot.

“Am I wrong?” the girl challenged.

“I don’t see why it matters,” Jenna retorted as she snatched up a bunch of bananas. “And you’re too young to be talking like that.”

Lulu folded her arms over her chest and huffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re the one who said you might wanna date again,” she reminded her. “I’m just trying to help.”

“That's not your job, though,” Jenna said, taking over pushing the cart. “Also, that was a hypothetical conversation.”

The two continued through produce, picking up more fruit. There was a pause, and Jenna prayed it was the end of that.

Except it wasn’t.

“Why does it have to be hypothetical, though?” she asked. “Every time I point out a cute guy, you get all weird. I just want you to be happy.”

Jenna sighed. “Listen, sweetie,” she coaxed, “I appreciate the fact that you care so much about my happiness, but do you wanna know the truth?”

They stopped then as Jenna grabbed a couple of avocados. Lulu dutifully found a bag and handed it to her mother while she probed, “What’s that?”

Jenna bagged the avocado and tossed it into the cart. Then, placing one arm around Lulu’s shoulders to pull her in closer, she revealed, “I already have everything I need right here. Anyone else is just a bonus.”

 _A bonus I already have_ , she added mentally. But Lulu didn’t need to know just yet.

She continued to push the cart with one hand while Lulu stayed at her side. The ten-year-old placed a hand on her back while they walked together, and suddenly Jenna was struck by the fact that her daughter was nearly as tall as she was now.

She stopped again, separating herself from the girl.

Lulu frowned. “What?”

Jenna shook her head. “Just trying to figure out when the hell you grew up so fast.”

 

* * *

 

Skies in Stanton Grove remained clear the rest of Saturday. By Sunday morning, however, clouds rolled in, bringing heavy rain. By late Sunday night, the quickly dropping temperature and wet curvy roads became a recipe for ice and snow on Monday morning.

Which meant no school, either. Which meant a change in plans at Joe’s Catering.

The luncheon scheduled for the afternoon had been rescheduled the day before in anticipation of the inclement weather. With nothing but office work, phone calls to field, and small orders to fill, Jenna brought Lulu along with her. Joe didn’t mind as long as she stayed out of the kitchen, and as long as it was a slow day.

Lulu took mostly to listening to her iPod or writing poetry in between homework. When Jenna, Becky, and Dawn convened in the break area to talk inventory and menu planning, she sat down at the table with them to help brainstorm ideas for recipes.

By mid-afternoon, she sat up front of the store with Jenna to greet the few customers who decided to brave the weather to come in for an event-planning appointment or to pick up an order. Dawn and Becky had come out to join them as well, the three adults taking turns answering the phones (mostly cancellations).

As the time drew closer to closing, Lulu had pulled up a stool and, bored with social studies homework, began doodling on her notebook. Meanwhile Jenna sat down with her own notepad and set to work on a list of ingredients for pies she wanted to experiment with.

“ _Balls_ ,” Becky spat after slamming the phone down, earning stares from her companions. Especially Lulu, who she remembered was there all too late. With wide eyes, she quickly muttered a, “You didn’t hear that.”

“Thanks,” Jenna whispered ruefully. Not that it was the worst her daughter had ever heard or would hear. Moving on, nonetheless, she asked, “What’s got your panties in a knot?”

“Feldman lunch got cancelled indefinitely,” Becky groaned. “And we were earning a hefty profit from them.”

Dawn and Jenna joined in her groaning, huffing their own frustration. Winter months were always horrible for business, both financially and productively. Either they were working themselves to the bone like they had been the last several weeks, or they were dead. There was no in between.

“I don’t normally complain about winter,” Dawn chimed in, “but it can kindly shove off."

“Ohhhhh,” Becky chortled. “Dawn’s fired up.”

“It’s _killing_ me!” Dawn declared, slamming her fists on the counter, causing the other women to jump. “Work is rollercoaster. My kids and my husband are eating the entire house like hibernating bears. My Seasonal Affective Disorder is off the charts. I’m _dying_ here, girls!”

“Whoa.”

 _“Definitely_ fired up.”

Jenna, trying to stay calm and reassuring, pat her friend’s back sympathetically and encouraged, “Let it out, hon.”

The shorter woman was in the middle of taking deep breaths, leaning against the counter and trying to calm down. Just as she looked like she was on the verge of another rant, the little bell on the door rang.

The four looked up to see fluffy dark hair and rosy cheeks bundled in a scarf and pea coat.

“Jim!” Lulu yelled excitedly.

“Hey, guys!” he greeted, standing up more straight now that he was in from the warmth. “I know I'm ridiculous for getting out in this weather, but--whoa.” He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at a thoroughly miffed Dawn. “Is she okay?”

“Cabin fever,” Becky announced. “I think we’re all suffering just a little.”

“They’re about to go wild,” Lulu whispered conspiratorially.

Jenna rolled her eyes. “Not _wild_ ,” she corrected. “But we’re bored. What the heck are you doing out in this anyway?”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly “I remembered that I kind of...agreed to schedule catering for the school’s Martin Luther King Day reception.”

“We have a phone, Jim,” Jenna told him. “Not that we’re disappointed to see you, but you didn't need to come all the way over here.”

He shrugged. “Roads are salted, I was already out getting milk. And I missed you guys.”

She exchanged a knowing look with him at that, holding their sporadic dates, carefully planned trysts, late night calls, and stolen daytime moments close to her chest. Behind her, she could feel Becky’s eyes burn a hole into her.

The one downside to having Becky be the only other person in on the secret. She’d never let them live it down, supportive as she was.

Not that Jenna anticipated it being a secret for much longer.

“Well, as long as you’re safe, we won’t complain,” Dawn, who had calmed herself, remarked. Then, picking up a pad and pen, pointed to one of the small tables set up in front. “If you wanna go sit, I can take care of your order.”

“Uh…” he looked at Jenna, who gave him a nod, then turned back to the smaller woman. “Sounds perfect.”

“Can I help??” Lulu begged, jumping off the stool she was sat on.

“Sure,” Dawn agreed. “I’ll even let you figure up the price quote.”

“I have to do _math_?”

“You can come scrub the kitchen with me and your mama,” Becky offered as an alternative, to which the child scrunched her face and stuck out her tongue in disgust.

Firmly following Dawn out from behind the counter, she said, “I’ll pass.”

Jim, having leaned himself against the counter, waited for Dawn and Lulu to walk ahead before turning to look at Jenna again. With the others distracted, she took advantage of the moment to reach for his hand and give it a reaffirming squeeze. The little wink he gave her in return wasn’t unnoticed by Becky, who cleared her throat just loudly enough to announce that, yes, she as aware. And, yes, they were disgusting.

The pair slowly separated, awkwardly and almost embarrassingly looking away from each other for a moment.

In that moment, Lulu called out exasperatedly from across the room, “Jim, come on!”

Jim and Jenna exchanged another knowing look before he turned back to join the other two.

Once the group had begun their business, Jenna headed back to the kitchen with Becky for their weekly thorough sanitization. Orders were already all filled, and dishes had been done by the part-time staff who had left for the day, so a wipe-down of every surface, and a good sweep-and-mop was in order.

Jenna volunteered to clean the ovens while Becky mixed water and bleach to wash down the sinks. The two were silent while they began working, though Jenna knew it was only a matter of time before the third degree. After all, she'd barely spoken a word about her and Jim since he’d moved.

“So,” Becky began nonchalantly, “things seem to be going well in Paradise.”

“As well as they can,” Jenna hedged. At her friend’s questioning look, she explained, “This whole on-the-downlow thing is starting to be a drag.”

“Are you finally gonna tell Lulu?”

“I’m gonna have to.” Jenna removed the rack from one oven and wiped it down with the clean rag she’d picked up, buying herself time to justify in her head a reason as to why she hadn't.

“You know, she’s a big girl now,” Becky reminded her. “She can handle you having a life.”

“I know she can,” Jenna agreed. “It’s just a huge change. Especially with how serious Jim and I are about each other. It’s kind of all or nothing for us, given our history.”

“It’s not like he’s buying a ring anytime soon, though,” Becky pointed out. “And you’re not just springing him on Lulu or planning to move him in or anything.”

Jenna shook her head. “No, but...she already really likes him.”

Becky narrowed her eyes, squinted, and then shook her head. “How is that, in any way, an issue?”

“What if it doesn’t work out, and she ends up disappointed because she got her hopes up?”

“Do you honestly, deep down in your heart, see that happening?”

At the question, Jenna was forced search her own heart, and came to the conclusion, “No.”

“Then, there's your answer,” Becky told her. She laid her wash rag aside and placed a hand on her hip. “Besides, look at how resilient and smart she is. You raised a kid with a good head on her shoulders.”

Jenna paused, letting that truth sink in. “I did.” She sucked in a breath and released it feebly. “I don't know how the hell I did, but I did.”

The two women went quiet then, focusing on their work for a minute. Jenna knew good and well Lulu could cope. But that didn't mean she had to expose her entire hand at once. She and Jim could start the process and go from there.

Plus, there was a part of her enjoying the secrecy and intrigue of it all. Stolen kisses in the parking lot on mornings or afternoons he could come see her on his way to or from work. Taking _full_ advantage of Lulu’s poetry club nights and an empty house with no wall-sharing neighbors. Mini lunch dates fit into work days when they could. A variety of text messages ranging from innocently sweet to Not Safe For Work being sent from opposite sides of the dinner table when the group decided to get together.

There was something about having a _good_ secret to keep close to her that thrilled her, and she didn’t want to let that go just yet.

“Baby steps,” Jenna decided eventually, picking up their conversation. “But soon, because Lulu’s new favorite game is Matchmaker, and I can only dodge that for so long.”

Becky snickered at that. “How many attempted set-ups has she made now?”

Jenna rolled her eyes and shook her head as she guessed. “Four or five?”

“Damn.”

“At least she has good taste,” the strawberry blonde had to admit. “All sensible, attractive, and age-appropriate so far. No truck drivers, ball-cap wearing Bubbas, or grandpas yet.”

Becky lifted her eyebrows thoughtfully and nodded. “Good kid. Maybe she can set _me_ up…”

“Things not working out with Cal?”

Becky groaned. “He’s being an asshole about defining us. I try to talk to him, try to see where he’s at and what he wants, but he doesn’t seem to give a single fuck.”

“Ah.” Jenna nodded. “So is he just deflecting? Is he being squirrely?”

“Well, he either finds an excuse to change the subject, or his new thing is,” then Becky deepened her voice and gave it an extra gravelly twang, “ _‘Baby, what does it matter?’_ And then he tries to distract me with sex. At first I thought maybe he had some insecurity about the fact that I’ve dated women too, but...no. I think he just hates anything with serious connotations.”

“I didn’t think you all were looking for anything serious, though,” Jenna pointed out, shutting the oven door.

“I didn’t either.” Becky found a particularly crusted spot and scrubbed harder. “But as it turns out, I don’t like the no-strings-attached method as much as I thought I would.”

“If you want me to beat some sense into him, I will,” Jenna offered.

Her friend shook her head. “No. He’ll come around eventually. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it or give him anything until he does, though.”

“Good luck with that.”

Leaning down to dip her rag into the bleach solution, Jenna moved on to wiping down the prep areas. Becky wasn’t far behind her, meandering over to the other side of the spacious kitchen. They quit speaking while they focused until, eventually, they ran out of surfaces. Together they cleaned out the grease trap--a nasty job that was especially necessary after a week of fried chicken orders.

Finally, with no mess left from the grease, all that was left was to sweep and mop the floor.

Jenna took up the task of retrieving the broom and the mop from the utility closet down the hall. On her way out of the kitchen, she nearly collided with a rushed Lulu, who’d barely avoided being hit by the door.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry!” she apologized to the startled child.

Though she didn't seem to be bothered as she continued down the hall toward the restrooms and called back, “It’s fine, mom.”

Jenna was about to let her go, but called back, “Hey, wait a minute.”

Lulu stopped and turned to her mother. “Yeah?”

“What do you think about inviting Jim over for dinner on Friday?” the older woman suggested.

“Just Jim?”

Jenna nodded. “If you’re okay with that.”

Lulu smiled. “Sounds great! Think he’ll bring that Catan game we played last time?”

“We can ask him.”

“Awesome!” the ten-year-old cheered. Then pointing down the hall, she informed her mom, “Okay, I really have to use the bathroom, though, so can we ask him later?”

“Yes, go,” Jenna dismissed her quickly. “I’ll talk to him.”

Jenna sucked in a deep breath and released it as she watched the child quite nearly running to her destination.

 _Baby steps_.

 

* * *

 

Becky and Dawn were the first to head home, leaving Jenna, Lulu, and Jim to close up shop. While the ten-year-old ran back to the lounge to gather her homework and other belongings, the two adults waited up front.

Jenna took to straightening up the front counter; checking the books, counting the register, and making sure the cordless phone was on the base.

She was writing down some notes when Jim walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Jenna’s heart leapt in her chest as he rested his chin on her shoulder watching her work.

Then his lips found her neck, causing her to close her eyes and sigh happily.

Sadly, she couldn’t afford to let herself indulge.

“Jim,” she warned on a whisper.

“Hmmm?” he asked, finding that spot she loved so much, breaking a whimper from her before she pulled away.

“My daughter can walk back in here at any second.”

She was leaning back, still in his arms and twisting around so they came face to face. His nose brushed against hers, lips so close but not touching.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my hands to myself when I’m with you?” he rasped, one hand caressing her hip.

“I can venture a guess.”

Then their lips were meeting, softly, tenderly. For a moment, Jenna almost forgot she wasn’t supposed to be kissing him there. With her daughter just down the hall. At her workplace.

Thankfully, the sound of a door clicking opening and slamming shut brought both her and Jim to their senses, and they completely separated. She watched him awkwardly stick his hands in his pockets while she steadied her breathing.

“Ready to go,” Lulu announced, backpack hanging off of one shoulder, coat and gloves already on. Then she turned to Jim and asked, “Hey, did mom ask you about Friday yet?”

“She did,” he smiled. “And I’ll be there.”

“With Catan?” the girl asked eagerly.

“With Catan.”

“Yes!” she cheered. Then she playfully taunted, “I’m gonna steal all of your land.”

“Ah, but you forget,” he played along, “I’m the Wheat King.”

“Only until I dethrone you.”

Jim cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Miss Barker?”

“You bet your tail, it is.”

He held out his hand to her. “Challenge _accepted_.”

“Bring it!” she declared, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

Jenna giggled and rolled her eyes and she grabbed her coat and purse from the rack they kept behind the counter. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“War,” Lulu stated flatly.

Jenna smirked at Jim, who was grabbing his own coat from the chair he’d draped it over. “Hate to say it, but you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Jim sucked in a breath and, eyes wide, slowly released it through his lips. “Don’t I know it.”

That earned a mischievous snicker from Lulu, who followed both of them out the door.

 

* * *

 

Poetry night came on Wednesday as usual.

With the weather cleared up again for the time being, school was back in session and community activities were mostly on regular schedule. At 6:00, Jenna pulled up to the public library with Lulu in the front seat of the car.

“Got your poetry book?” she asked the child, who was unbuckling herself before the vehicle even stopped.

Lulu lifted the notebook proudly. “Right here!”

“Library card?”

“In my pocket,” she announced, placing a hand on her right hip to make certain the card was there. “I'm trying to decide if I wanna start Harry Potter or Narnia.”

“Didn’t you say the waiting list was like a mile long for the Harry Potter books?” Jenna asked.

Lulu’s shoulders sunk at the reminder. “It is,” she sighed. “And they only let you keep them for a couple of weeks.”

“Then, maybe you should wait until we can buy them.”

“Can we do that soon??” the girl begged. “I’ve been wanting to read those forever, and I can't even find _Sorcerer’s Stone_ at school.”

“We’ll see,” Jenna told her, not about to make any promises. “They’re expensive, and I wanted to get you the full set. Maybe for your birthday.”

Lulu’s eyes grew wide. “Really?!”

“I said _maybe_ ,” Jenna corrected. “But we’ll talk about it later. You're gonna be late.”

“Okay,” the ten-year-old sulked only a little as she opened the car door and stepped out onto the curb. Then, quickly recovering from the minor disappointment, she called to her mother, “Love you!”

“Love you, too!” Jenna called back. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

The door slammed behind Lulu, and Jenna watched through the darkness to make sure she got into the building. Just as she was about to pull out, her phone pinged with a new message.

She picked it up from its spot in the car console to find a message to her from Jim.

_How do you feel about ice skating?_

Jenna, uncertain and, truth be told, not feeling particularly adventurous tonight, replied: _Tried it with Lulu, not a fan, but I’m willing to give it another shot if that’s what you really want to do._

Part of her knew she might regret it once she hit send. But it was also something different, and the park where they’d set up a rink for the winter was only a few minutes away.

What was the harm?

 _Greenhill in ten?_ came his response. _We don’t even have to skate, I just want to see you._

She smiled and texted back, _On my way._

 

* * *

 

Jenna was never more thankful that she’d bundled up in three layers of jackets, thick socks under her boots, a wool hat and wool scarf, and gloves. She ignored the wind cutting against her cheeks, searching the crowd for Jim.

It wasn't that difficult to find him. Not with his height and beaming smile.

Her heart skipped a beat when he waved at her, and the cold was suddenly replaced by a flood of warmth when they came together and he scooped her up into his arms. Even with icy lips, the kiss they shared felt like fire.

“Hi,” he greeted her breathlessly. The dopey grin on his face was contagious.

“Hi.”

“Never gonna get tired of that,” he said. Then, taking a step back from her to reach for her hand, suggested, “Hot tea?”

Jenna, now shivering again, noticing the puffs of fog with each breath she exhaled, nodded vigorously. “Yes, please.”

“Come on,” he encouraged, guiding her to huddle into him for warmth again. “I’ve found the perfect place down here.”

As they wandered closer to the skating rink, observing happy families, groups of teenagers, and couples of all ages, Jenna pondered where exactly they were going. As far as she knew, all these changes to the park were brand new, and Stanton Grove didn't offer much.

Sure enough, though, the old rundown diner that sat on the edge of the park, abandoned for almost ten years, had been rebuilt and renovated into a quaint little coffee shop.

Jenna saw the lights first as they took the path past the rink; an orangey glow in a darker section of the park. Then she saw the dressy window and robin’s egg blue door. Then several patrons sitting at little tables on the inside, all holding disposable cups as if their lives depended on it.

Greenhill Brew.

Short, sweet, and to the point. Jenna loved it already.

“How did I not see this last time??” Jenna sputtered. “Lulu and I were here a few weeks before Christmas.”

“Apparently they just opened after New Year’s,” Jim explained. “Carson and his wife brought their kids to skate after the holidays, and I heard him and Michelle Stevens raving about it in the lounge first day back.”

Jenna lifted her brows, impressed that someone in this city had taken the initiative on something to better the community that _wasn't_ another fast food joint or retail store.

“It’s about time, then.”

With arms wrapped around each other, the two trod up to the shop. Jenna couldn't help take a bit of childlike joy out of the fact that a little bell jingled as Jim opened the door, ushering her inside. The two still shivered as they scurried past the threshold.

The shop was peaceful. Despite the number of patrons, the chatter was kept to a low volume, and no one seemed in a hurry. The calm atmosphere alone helped to keep Jenna relaxed while she and Jim stood in line

As it turned out, the tea selection was wide and varied. More so than Jenna had expected. Jim ordered what would be a much less sweet London Fog, while Jenna opted for an herbal vanilla blend with honey and almond milk.

Within ten minutes, the couple was finding a vacant table in the corner, right next to one of the large, picturesque windows.

For several minutes, they sat together, conversation flowing as they drank their tea. Jim asked how her day was, and she assured him that it was much busier than Monday when he’d walked in to a ghost town. Joe had even come in and was in an unusually chipper mood. (He always got this way right before he felt generous enough to hand out promotions and raises, which left her hopeful.)

Next was Jim’s turn to share. A class of freshmen bombed their first major lab back from break. Not an A nor a B in a class of 32, despite the detailed study guides and color coded notes on the board. On the plus side, however, his Anatomy & Physiology kids were surprisingly mature when starting their chapter on human reproduction.

“Not a single dick joke,” he announced proudly. “Yet.”

Jenna laughed. “How is that not _weird_ for you?”

“You teach the same thing for seven years, it all just rolls right off of you.”

“Still, with a bunch of teenagers, that has to be awkward.”

At that moment, Jenna glanced up to find a very familiar set of blonde curls, owner chatting to some people a few tables down. She tried to look away, tried to see if the woman would turn back around and leave once she was finished talking and not notice that she was here. On a date.

_Speaking of awkward..._

Jenna covered her face as subtly as she could, praying that she could escape the uncomfortable conversation and having to explain Jim.

Then she heard the voice she was dreading call out, “Jenna??”

Forcing a smile, Jenna looked up at her former coworker and greeted, “Serena!”

The enthusiasm in her voice was so contrived, she couldn’t imagine anyone falling for it. But the woman standing above her looked as bright and glowing as ever, and sounded even more chipper as she said, “God, I feel like I never see you anymore. How are things at Joe’s?”

“Oh, you know, same old,” Jenna replied. “We miss you.”

Not a lie.

She liked Serena. She was a cornerstone of their team; a natural leader and a positive (sometimes to a fault) force in the kitchen and at events. But, as expected, when someone as hardworking and efficient as Serena exist, there are other businesses who want them and will offer decent money to win them over.

And, as Jenna took note of Serena’s now obviously pregnant belly, major life changes had a tendency to make the choice to leave easier.

“Well, as long as Cal and Becky don’t kill each other, I think you all seem to have it down pat,” the other woman joked, the trio forcing a laugh together. Then she finally took notice of the man sitting across from Jenna, and said, “Oh, I’m being so rude. I’m Serena. Jenna and I worked together for several years.”

“Jim,” he introduced himself, holding a hand out for her shake.

“Ohhh,” Serena looked back and forth between the couple. “So, how do you two know each other?”

Jenna stared wide-eyed at Jim. The answer was simple, but could also lead to more questions. And she really, _really_ did not want to divulge her new relationship to the human tabloid that was Serena. Not after she’d spent too many days in the break room hearing about all of her coworkers sordid affairs that she did _not_ need to know about.

But she had no choice, so she tried the most basic truth: “We went to school together.”

“In for a visit then?” Serena guessed.

“I actually just moved back,” Jim explained. He was surprisingly comfortable and sure of himself, which made Jenna a little envious.

She wished she didn’t have to be the only one feeling the urge to run, crawl into a deep, dark hole, and hide.

“Hmmmm,” the blonde lifted an eyebrow, interest piqued. “So you’re...reconnecting?”

Jenna felt her stomach drop. Something about the way Serena said “reconnecting” dripped with euphemism. How the hell was she going to explain this without giving their still new relationship away?

“I suppose,” Jenna hedged.

Serena must have caught the cryptic hesitancy in her voice or seen it on her face, because she glanced back and forth between them again, and. “So, are you guys…?”

Jim, with a sheepish grin, started to say, “Well, we kind of--”

“We’re friends,” Jenna insisted, cutting him off.

There was a lull in the conversation then, and Jenna looked across at Jim to see him staring down, lips pursed, eyes low. He didn’t make a move to speak, and she could feel the hurt radiating off of him.

Guilt clutched at her chest, and she knew she would have to explain herself as soon as they were alone again.

Great.

Serena frowned, finally speaking. “Oh. Oh, well.”

Across the café, the barista chose that moment to call her name and announce her order was ready. Perking up, Serena glanced back to make sure that it was, indeed, her that they called before turning back to the couple.

“Well, I hate to run, but that's mine, and I’ve got tons to do before I even get home,” she told them regretfully. Then she turned to Jim and said, “It was really nice to meet you.” They shook hands once more before she addressed Jenna. “It’s great to see you, too. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t,” Jenna agreed, knowing full well she probably wouldn't be reaching out that often.

They shared a round of goodbyes as Serena veered off toward the register to pick up her drink.

Jenna expected the weight to lift off her chest with the other woman gone. Instead, a new heaviness hung between her and Jim that she couldn’t ignore. A heaviness she’d hoped to never have to feel with him again.

But if she was going to be with him, she supposed that was no longer an option. Was it?

Jim still stared down, attention a little too focused on his tea. He tapped the sides of the cup and took in a breath.

“Friends?” he asked. It wasn’t accusatory. Just...sad. Disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” Jenna was quick to apologize. “She’s just...not discreet. And I didn’t want her to get a hold of this and broadcast it everywhere”

He nodded slowly. “Because we’re not ready to tell everyone yet.”

“And you want to?” she asked, trying to gauge where he was at. “You’re ready?”

He shook his head and lifted his shoulders. “Well, it’s been a couple of months…” he trailed off, eyes traveling across the café as he measured his next words. “But I also know we agreed to keep it to ourselves for a while, for Lulu’s sake. And I respect that.” He lowered his voice again, and added, “I won’t lie, though. That stung.”

Jenna reached across the table to place her hand on his, running her thumb across rough skin. She didn’t know what to say.

She understood why it was hard for him. She understood why her dismissing what they had as mere friendship (valuable as friendship was) would hurt him. She understood why having to hide a perfectly consenting, monogamous relationship was daunting. It was daunting for _her_.

But she also needed just a little more time.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeated, unable to think of anything else to say. She had no excuses.

As delicate as this situation was, as little experience as she had with balancing motherhood and the first real relationship she’d had in years...she knew there was a better way to go about this. She knew something had to give, and soon. Or else she risked letting them both get hurt.

The good news, however, was that she had a plan.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she spoke softly, “part of the reason I invited you to dinner on Friday was to start actively working toward getting Lulu used to us.”

He lit up again at that, mood shifting. “Really?”

She nodded. “It’s time.” She readjusted in her chair, sitting up more straight, and said, “You’re right, we can’t keep doing this. Hiding. Lying. It’s stupid.”

Jenna, felt the ball of anxiety in her belly start to dissipate as he reached across the table for her other hand. They sat there for a moment, fingers linked together, not saying anything. She watched him struggle for a moment. The gears in his mind were moving. She could tell by the way he stared, focused, on the table in front of him.

Finally, he looked up at her, grey-blue eyes piercing her. Inviting her. His gaze was soft again, and the heaviness lifted once again.

“Okay.” Then he gave her hand a squeeze and uttered, “Let’s quit hiding."

Jenna knew it wouldn’t be that simple. She needed to find the right time to talk to Lulu about it. To make sure that, despite all of her daughter’s efforts to talk her into dating, making it a reality wouldn’t suddenly change her mind; it wouldn’t suddenly leave her feeling forgotten or resentful.

But they would take the next step.

“Let’s quit hiding.”


	2. January - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I certainly hope this chapter was worth the wait, because it ended up turning into a bunch of mush. If it's any indication, Laura yelled and spat rainbows at me when I sent her my finished draft to look at. (If you haven't read her fic After Waitress, I suggest you get on that ASAP, because she is absolutely brilliant.)
> 
> Without further ado, I guess...

**** Thursday night found Jenna sitting in Dawn and Ogie's kitchen while Lulu and the twins disappeared upstairs to play.

The group had gotten together and ordered Chinese takeout for dinner on a spontaneous decision after the two women had realized they’d barely seen each other outside of work. So, while the kids were occupied and Ogie busied himself in the living room with the newspaper crossword puzzle, Jenna and Dawn were in the kitchen breaking out the wine glasses and a chilled bottle of sweet white moscato.

“Sorry I couldn't cook,” Dawn apologized, fishing a corkscrew out of a drawer. “I’ve been meaning to get to the store.”

“It’s completely fine,” Jenna assured as she set the glasses on the counter.

“Thanks for buying dinner, by the way.”

Dawn passed the corkscrew so Jenna could open the bottle. The strawberry blonde struggled for a moment as she fiddled with the device.

“It was no problem,” she grunted through gritted teeth as the cork popped out of the bottle neck. “I promise. After all you guys have done for us, it’s the least I could do.”

Dawn reached for the bottle and began to fill the glasses. “No one’s keeping score, Jenna.”

“I know. I just...” Then she trailed off, taking a sip of wine. “We’ve all had a lot going on lately, and I feel like I’ve kind of ignored you.”

“That’s life, sweetie. We get busy. It happens,” Dawn dismissed, taking a drink. Jenna must have had a look on her face, though, because she stopped, surveying her carefully, and asked, “Where did this come from all the sudden?”

Jenna took another sip. She’d had a ball of anxiety sitting on her stomach all day. After the previous night, after she and Jim had decided it was time to start opening up about their relationship, she’d picked Lulu up and spent the entire evening in stoic silence as she remembered that it was more than her daughter she was keeping secrets from. While she had one best friend who knew everything--only by circumstance, of course, but still--the other had been left in the dark. And she trusted Dawn. She wasn’t going to be the type to butt in. She wasn’t going to let everyone else in on Jenna’s love life. It was nosey coworkers and neighbors Jenna was worried about. Old “family friends” who pretended to care but just wanted to gossip.

But not Dawn.

Unnecessary guilt had welled itself up inside of her at work while she and Dawn had delivered luncheons to various business meetings across town. This wasn’t life or death. Her friendship was in no danger. She had a right to be happy and share her happiness in her own time. But, next to Becky, Dawn was her closest confidant.

Now, as they stood in the middle of the kitchen, migrating over to the dining table together, she knew she had to let her in. 

“There’s been more going on that’s been keeping me busy than I’ve told you about,” Jenna said vaguely when they sat down.

She expected Dawn to ask what. She expected her friend to be intrigued.

What she did  _ not _ expect was for her friend to sit back with her wine and casually ask, “You mean you and Jim?”

“Yeah, I-- _ what? _ ”

Jenna stared dumbfounded at Dawn. Her defined Japanese and European fusion of features formed into a knowing smirk; beautiful brown eyes sparkling with amusement behind her glasses.

“Did Becky tell you?” Jenna asked after a long pause.

Dawn shook her head. “Nope. She didn’t have to.” She set her glass down. “When you first mentioned him before he moved here, I could tell he was important to you. Then I saw the way you look at each other and the way you talk to each other. Didn’t take long to put two and two together.”

Jenna blushed and held tighter to her glass. “So, we’re really that obvious?”

“That,” her friend confirmed, “and I might have seen you kiss him in the parking lot.”

At that, Jenna went turtle, sliding down in her chair and covering her face with her free hand. “Oh, god…”

“What?” Dawn asked. “You’re embarrassed??”

“Yes!” Jenna groaned. “I thought we were more subtle, but we’re apparently no better than a couple of teenagers.”

“I think it’s sweet,” the other woman told her matter-of-factly. “Only known the guy a few months, but I can tell he thinks the world of you.”

Jenna swallowed. “Has he said anything?”

“I've seen him drop everything he’s doing to get up and help you when you’re hosting dinner,” Dawn pointed out. “He laughs way harder at your jokes than anyone else’s. And the number of times I've heard him say, ‘Oh, Jenna loves that!’ or ‘Jenna used to do X, Y, or Z!’ He even knows about the little tattoo on your hip with Lulu’s birthday.”

Jenna chewed nervously on her lip. That was definitely not something she shared with most people. She couldn’t tell how much Jim had actually revealed about what he knew, or how he escaped that discussion without having to explain himself. But yeah...him knowing would definitely be a dead giveaway.

“I don’t wanna know how that came up in conversation,” Jenna stated, taking a long swig of wine. “But, I see your point. I should have known better than to think you wouldn’t figure it out.”

“You should have,” Dawn agreed. “Not gonna hold it against you, though.” She took Jenna’s hand from across the table and said sincerely, “I'm happy for you.”

Jenna smiled. “Thanks.  _ I’m _ happy.”

“How does Lulu feel?”

The strawberry blonde shook her head. “She doesn't know yet. Soon, though.”

Dawn nodded thoughtfully. “Easing her into the idea?”

“She’s never seen me seriously date anyone.”

Jenna was grateful for a lack of judgment on her friend’s part. It was one of the many things she loved about Dawn. She tried to understand even when she didn't understand. She was a careful listener.

She inspired Jenna to be more empathetic.

“I can’t imagine her being anything but supportive,” Dawn said.

“I hope so,” Jenna replied shakily.

There was a drift in conversation as the two women finished their glasses of wine. Dawn poured them each one more before sealing the bottle again and taking it back to the fridge. With her friend busy, Jenna reached into the pocket of her jeans for her phone.

“Any idea what the weather’s supposed to be like this weekend?” she asked, opening the appropriate app. She swiped through the hourly breakdown and noted, “It doesn’t look like anymore snow so far.”

Dawn made an uncertain sound and told her, “Eh...news said a system’s supposed to roll in tomorrow some time and give us several inches.”

“Well, if it is, the Weather Channel isn’t acknowledging it yet.”

Dawn shrugged. “It’s never certain around here. But I’d be safe and make sure you have what you need at home. Even if it just rains, the roads will freeze. It’s been that cold.”

“As long as we have power and water, we’re good,” Jenna said. It hadn't been a destructive winter, so far, thank god. She did, however, make a mental note to get out the kerosene heaters from the garage and to buy a few jugs of water. Just in case.

As she glanced out the window next to the table, she could already see wind whipping dead trees; moonlight blacked out by clouds. There was no precipitation. Yet. But she could sense the shift in weather.

She didn’t have to be outside to feel the icy cold air biting at her cheeks to know.

 

* * *

 

Friday morning brought some snow flurries. Nothing serious, and nothing that would impede Jim from joining Jenna and Lulu for their scheduled dinner.

Jenna had even called him during the ten minute window they shared a lunch break to ask if he wanted to take a rain check, but he’d insisted that a little snow wouldn’t stop him. When she warned him of the bigger system coming in, he’d made a controversial though not unreasonable suggestion: an emergency overnight bag.

Only if she didn't mind, of course. He wasn't going to  _ assume _ she’d invite him to stay.

(What the hell was she? A monster? Of  _ course _ she would invite him to stay if it became unsafe to drive. Not only that, but she'd force him.)

In the end, she selfishly decided it wouldn't be so bad if they  _ accidentally _ got snowed in together. It meant more time for them. More time for him to bond with Lulu. And it meant she had a helping hand if the kerosene heaters and flashlights became necessary. Plus, she had plenty of room.

The pros far outweighed the cons.

So, when Jim showed up to her front door at 5:00 that evening with a backpack on his shoulders, a small box of assorted doughnuts from their bakery stacked on top of Catan in his arms...she was unfazed.

The snow had started coming down harder, and Jenna had to admit he looked adorable with fluffy white flakes contrasting his dark hair.

He shivered as he stepped inside and brushed off his hair. She led him toward the kitchen where he set the boxes down on the table. “It’s a good thing I packed up,” he commented as he removed his scarf and coat. “It’s already starting to cover out there.”

A crockpot with the base for turkey noodle soup simmered on the counter, and noodles boiled on the stove. While Jim removed his coat, scarf, and gloves, Jenna tended to the pasta. She stirred the pot and carefully spooned out a rotini to check that it was al dente.

“Well, we’re all set if we get stuck here,” she told him as she fetched a strainer from one of the cabinets. “Dinner will be ready in an hour, by the way.”

It didn't take long for Jim to come to her aid as she took the pot over to the sink to drain. She could have done it herself, honestly, but she had to admit it was nice to have someone lift a small burden off her shoulders.

While she shook out the strainer for any excess water and carried it over to the crockpot to add the noodles, he already had cold water running over the pot to cool the metal. Another moment later, and he was soaking up a dishcloth and washing said pot.

He knew she liked to clean as she went, and she could kiss him for it.

However, any kissing would have to wait, as she was so reminded by a child's voice announcing, “Room’s clean.”

Lulu stood in the kitchen doorway, red curls bouncing as she pulled down the sleeves of her sweater. When she noticed their company, she beamed.

“Jim, you made it!” she observed happily.

“Told you I would,” he replied. Then he pointed at the table, and Lulu’s gaze fell to the red box with the sunset on the cover. 

Her eyes grew big as saucers as she noticed, “You remembered the game, too.”

He grinned. “Always keep my promises.”

“We probably have time to play one while we wait for the soup,” Jenna noted, giving Jim an encouraging look as she wandered over to hand him the strainer to wash.

He took a second to think before agreeing, “Sounds good to me.” Then he asked Lulu, “Rematch right now?”

Lulu didn't even give a second thought as she marched toward the table. “On it!”

She was already opening the box and setting up the game board before Jim could even dry his hands. Jenna found herself crossing her arms and arching a stern brow.

“Patience?” she reminded her daughter, a little chuffed that she couldn’t have at least  _ asked _ Jim before pulling out all the pieces. It was his game.

Lulu stopped, staring guiltily between the two adults.

“It’s fine,” Jim insisted, placing a gentle hand on Jenna’s shoulder, prompting Lulu to continue. Then he leaned over to whisper in Jenna’s ear, “I like to let her help. It gets her involved, and it earns me brownie points.”

Jenna relaxed and nodded an, “Ah.”

She couldn’t argue with him.

 

* * *

 

“Victory Point!”

Lulu had just turned over one of her development cards to reveal an extra point. Jim began counting up her points. Three cities, a settlement, the Longest Road card, and now her bonus victory point.

“You, Wheat Queen, reign supreme,” he commended her, bowing dramatically in his seat. “I've been defeated.”

Jenna looked down at her measly three settlements and six roads. This game had  _ not _ been kind to her. Neither had the one before, for that matter.

“Warned you I’d steal all of your land,” Lulu teased.

Jenna took the end of the game to collect their empty soup bowls. They’d long since eaten and had just completed their second game, and she was starting to feel the exhaustion.

“One more game?” Lulu requested

Jenna sighed, rinsing the bowls and spoons to load them into the dishwasher. “Maybe we can play a different game?” she suggested. “I forgot how long Catan was.”

“Forbidden Island?” Jim chimed in. “It’s faster, no competition.”

“Why not Mario Kart?” Lulu asked. 

Then, as if on cue, all went dark around them.

The hum of the refrigerator and the heating system ceased. There was no glow from the clock on the oven. The nightlight in the corner of the kitchen stayed dark. 

Not even the street lamps outside gave any light.

“That’s why,” Jenna said.

“Oh boy…” Lulu muttered, groaning.

Jim stood up from the table and walked over to the kitchen window. “Holy crap,” he whispered after pulling back the curtain.

“What?”

Jenna followed, staring outside and straining her eyes to see through the dark.

The ground was completely covered in white. Flakes were falling in droves, and wind whipped the trees. Next door, the Harrison’s picnic table in the backyard was barely recognizable.

“God, Dawn wasn't kidding…”

“How did it shut the power down that quickly, though?” Jim wondered aloud. 

“Wind probably knocked a tree into a pole,” was Jenna’s guess. “And we’re further out of town, so they won’t have it back up until morning.”

“I’ve got the flashlights,” Lulu offered, making her way from the table to one of the kitchen drawers. 

She had two out of the drawer and clicked them on in a jiffy. Jenna took one and turned to Jim. 

“Can you help me light space heaters?” she asked, prompting a nod from him. 

“I’ll even go get blankets out.”

Jenna smiled then before turning to Lulu and instructing, “Light the candles in the living room, and be careful.”

“On, it boss,” the girl gave her a little salute before hurrying off to complete her task.

Jenna turned back to Jim and beckoned him to follow her to the door on the opposite end of the kitchen, leading to the garage.

“Now comes the fun part,” she announced.

 

* * *

 

Jenna, unfortunately, only owned two kerosene heaters. She and Jim lugged them both each to the living room and to her bedroom. While Jenna had planned on letting Jim have the guest bedroom--not as if she was going to let him sleep with her while her daughter was in the house just yet--she knew it would be freezing. So, it was decided that Jim would commandeer the couch for the night while Lulu bunked with Jenna. Simple enough.

Thankfully, the heaters worked very well, and there were plenty of wool blankets to go around. 

There were also plenty of extra sheets and pillows, as Lulu discovered when they began pulling them out of the closet. This had inspired the 10-year-old who, ever so subtly, began dragging chairs and everything else she could find into the center of the living room.

While Jim was in the kitchen working out the logistics of a dimly-lit round of Forbidden Island, Jenna was situating candles around the living room, adding more to the ones Lulu had already lit. Within minutes, the coffee table was on the other side of the living room. It was then Jenna noticed and looked up to eye the child curiously.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

Lulu lifted a sheet and placed it over the top of the structure she’d set up and replied, “Pillow fort.”

“I thought you wanted to play Forbidden Island.”

“I do,” Lulu answered, “but it’ll be more fun in a pillow fort.”

Jenna frowned. “Are we all gonna fit?”

“I think so,” the girl nodded, surveying the space she’d laid out.

Her mother hummed doubtfully, and asked, “You know you’re going to be cleaning all of this up, right?”

Lulu sighed while she continued to work. “Kind of figured that.”

Jenna gave it a moment before she grinned and picked up a sheet of her own. “Here, let me show you how I used to make them.”

The pair got busy on the fort then. Jenna worked to cover the outside while Lulu began stuffing pillows and blankets inside. Before long, they had half the room covered. Just as they were finishing up, Jim exited the kitchen with the game tin tucked under his arm. Jenna stopped and watched as his face slowly contorted into confusion.

“Did I miss something?” he asked slowly.

“She wanted to build a pillow fort,” Jenna explained, keeping her voice a little too cheerful, “and play the game in there.”

“Can we??” Lulu begged, breaking out the puppy dog eyes.

Jim seemed to consider this for a moment, lips pursing as he looked up thoughtfully. Finally, with a shrug, he said, “I don’t see why not.”

“Yes!”

Jenna observed him, looked him straight in the eye as she asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it sounds fun.” A genuine response, Jenna noted.

The pair followed Lulu and crawled into the little opening she and Jenna had made. Inside, Lulu had brought a battery-operated nightlight that she’d had since she was little. It glowed brightly, leaving star-shaped beams on the cloth walls surrounding them.

Surprisingly, the fort was roomy. The three sat inside without having to hunch too much--Jim more so than Jenna or Lulu--and without having to sit on top of each other. Pillows and blankets nested on the floor, one space left open in the center.

“This is actually pretty cozy,” Jim remarked as he opened up the game box.

Jenna, meanwhile, grabbed an extra blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Lulu followed her example and wrapped up in one of her own while Jim began to lay out the island cards in the empty space.

“Can I flip the cards each turn?” Lulu asked.

Jim smiled. “Of course.” Then he glanced over at Jenna, gave her a little wink, and kept his gaze trained on her as he told Lulu, “And your mom can protect the treasure when we get it.”

“I’ll guard it with my life,” she promised melodramatically.

She and Jim continued to exchange dopey lovestruck grins while Lulu began to chatter about her plan for the game. She was already developing a strategy, based on the random playing field Jim had laid out. The two adults, however, were too busy taking in one another and the sheer childlike joy of that moment. 

Jenna had to laugh.

She thought Lulu’s pillow fort days were already over. And even though that wasn’t actually the case yet, they sure were numbered. Jenna’s own pillow fort days had barely existed as it was. Yet here she was, playing games and sitting criss-cross-applesauce on her living room floor, surrounded by precariously perched sheets and chairs. 

Suddenly, she was twelve years old again, recalling back to the first time she’d met Jim. 

During the first week of him moving to Stanton Grove, they’d barely spoken to one another. Then Shelly Maxwell invited the entire 7th grade to her birthday party, bringing the fated lovers properly together for the first time. Becky had been sick, leaving Jenna to survive the party alone. She found a lonely Jim, and they’d ended up huddled up together, ignoring the chaos around them while they got to know one another. By the end of the night, when Shelly’s parents turned a blind eye and the remaining group decided Spin the Bottle was a fantastic idea, the pair snuck away. They hid upstairs on the front porch and waited for Jim’s mom to pick them up while their classmates made out in the basement.

It had been a warm night. A clear night. They’d laughed together how at stupid the kissing game was. How no one knew what they were doing, and they were too young anyway. How neither of them was going to kiss  _ anyone _ \--pinky swear--until they were much older. (Jenna wouldn’t even wait a year. Jim, on the other hand, ended up waiting until their junior prom for his.) The whole exchange had been innocent. The last time Jenna could remember truly  _ being a kid _ .

And while she had forgotten about it for years, she now recalled a part of her 12-year-old self who had come very close to sharing her first kiss with the man now sitting beside her. Only she’d been too shy. Too focused on not growing up too fast to entertain the notion.

Funny, she thought, as she realized how quickly her childhood had been upturned within just a few years of that moment.

She looked up at Lulu then, the redhead’s eyes wide with wonderment as she and Jim exchanged ideas for the story they were telling with the game; concocting a fantastical tale about pirates and ancient curses that protected the fictional island they were meant to be recovering treasure from. It was hard for Jenna to watch her daughter do anything without feeling grateful. And that, she supposed, she owed to the fact that she’d grown up so fast.

As bittersweet as it was to long for those simpler days before her mother died, she could never be sorry for or regret the direction her life had taken her. Not when she had pillow forts, Forbidden Island, and the two people sitting next to her.

With a new resolve, she trained her focus to the game and asked her companions, “So, who goes first?”

 

* * *

 

The trio ended up playing two rounds of the game. Mainly because they’d come so close to winning the first one only to have Fool’s Landing in a flood plain and no helicopter lift or pilot role at their disposal. They went at the second game with a vengeance and came together to defeat it with an even more challenging playing field.

They’d even forgotten the fact that they were sitting in the dark, barely staying warm.

As they wrapped up the game, Lulu yawned and rubbed her eyes. At some point, she’d scooted closer to Jenna and had laid her head on her mother’s lap. Now she was sitting up, stretching and mumbling.

“I think it’s time for bed,” she said on another yawn.

Jenna reached out to play with one of Lulu’s red ringlets and agreed, “I think you’re right, my girl.” 

“I have to clean all this up, though.”

The older woman shook her head. “Get it in the morning.” Then she looked up at the man beside her as she added, “Jim and I will clean up the game.”

He nodded in agreement, taking her cue: she wanted to be alone with him for a while.

Lulu didn’t argue. “Okay,” she yawned yet again.

The 10-year-old crawled past the adults toward the entrance. Before she could leave, though, Jenna assured her, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“All right. Night, mom,” Lulu called behind her as she headed off to the bedroom.

“Night, sweetheart.”

The two adults sat quietly while they listened for the closing of doors. For a moment, they stared at one another, a silent agreement to wait to speak or act at all until they were sure Lulu was in bed.

Jim began gathering game pieces, and Jenna soon joined him. They had Forbidden Island packed up in no time, leaving her to give into the temptation she’d had all night. And that was to kiss the man senseless. 

She caught him off guard as he was setting the game off to the side. There was zero resistance on his end, and soon the couple was falling back into blankets and pillows. Jenna had just enough coordination to not hit her head as she went first, finding a cushion while her hands wandered. It was tempting to move further south. To arch into him or hook a leg around his hips. Especially when lithe fingers were sliding beneath her top, lighting up her skin while his lips were electric against hers.

Except her daughter was down the hall. In her bed. And they were in the middle of the living room. In a pillow fort.

This was definitely  _ not _ ideal.

She slowed the pace, not wanting to let him go just yet but needing to cool down. Gradually, their kisses turned from raging fire to a faint glowing ember. His touch was tender, and she could feel the way he smiled with each kiss. It was infectious, too, because she found herself grinning from ear to ear between soft, sweet pecks.

When they separated, he gazed down at her, eyes affectionate and appreciative. “Hi,” he whispered.”

“Hi.” She was pretty sure the noise that escaped her was a giggle. An actual giggle.

Without speaking, Jim rolled off of her and onto the floor next to her. He rested his head on a pillow and reached for one of the blankets, covering himself with it. Then he was lifting one side and beckoning her to come closer.

They needed to get some sleep, Jenna knew. She also knew Lulu could come back at any moment. But she allowed herself the moment with him, melting into him as he wrapped his arms and the blanket around her. She nuzzled into his chest, just being and breathing to the rhythm of their heartbeats.

Around them, the nightlight still left star-shaped beams on the sheets. Outside the fort, the glow of flickering candles added further ambiance to their little cocoon.

“Are you sure don’t wanna just sleep here?” Jim broke their silence.

Jenna chortled. “It’s tempting,” she spoke hushedly, “but I’m not explaining this to my child in the morning.”

“Fair enough.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll take as much of this as I can get, though.”

“You won’t hear me complain.”

“Are you warm enough?” he asked. 

She nodded. “Mmhmm. Are you?”

“I’m absolutely perfect.”

For several minutes, they just lay there, wrapped up together. Jenna could feel her eyes trying to fall shut. They were heavy, and she knew if she let herself stay too long, she’d probably fall asleep. She was in a blissful haze, unwilling to budge. 

Eventually, she would get up and help Jim find what he needed to camp out on the couch. Eventually, she would blow out all the candles. Eventually, she would go to her own bed and pray that Lulu wasn't still awake. 

For now, though, she would enjoy strong, safe arms. She would hold and be held, the two of them whispering secrets into the dark. 

 

* * *

 

Jenna woke with Lulu flopped over on her stomach, taking up more than her half of the bed. The ten-year-old was snoring away, blissfully unaware that her elbow was in her mother’s face.

Jenna yawned as she sat up and stretched, removing herself from underneath the blanket without waking the sleeping child. The house was still cold, and the clock on her nightstand was still dark.

She sighed heavily and padded over to her closet to grab a fuzzy robe. Once wrapped up in the warmth, she shuffled back to the bed to tuck Lulu in more snugly. With a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, she left the bedroom.

In the living room, sunlight that glowed off the snow outside beamed in, making the house unusually bright. Jenna squinted, allowing her eyes to adjust. Then she surveyed the room, puzzled to find the couch empty, blanket folded and sitting on one side. Lulu’s pillow fort still stood strong in the center of the room.

Where was Jim?

She turned and made a beeline for the kitchen. He wasn’t in there; and the bathroom door had been open when she’d passed it walking down the hall.

Jenna pursed her lips as she considered where else to look. Surely, he hadn’t just gotten up and left.

Puzzled, she scurried back to the living room, navigating past blankets, pillows, and chairs to peek outside. As she reached the window, however, the sight that met her was one that probably shouldn’t have surprised her as much as it did.

Jim was on the nearly buried front walkway, bundled up in a coat, gloves, and boots, shovel in hand. While it had stopped snowing, the cold, icy powder had covered everything a good several inches. Now he was tossing snow off the walkway into the coated grass. Jenna could hear the scrape of plastic against concrete even through the window.

She glanced several feet over to the driveway to see that...well, he’d taken care of that too. Even the steps on the porch had been cleared.

Jim looked up at that moment, grin spreading across his face when he noticed her. She waved, and he waved back before returning to his task. Despite the chill in the house, her heart felt warm.

Except, with that warmth, there was also an unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. 

She wasn’t used to having someone take care of her. And as happy as it made her to know that she could depend on Jim, that he cared enough to look out for her, the deeply independent side of her began to push back. She knew he didn’t think she was weak or incapable; that wasn’t why he was out there. But she was a grown woman, a mother; shoveling her driveway and walkway was something she’d done perfectly fine on her own for years.

She was his girlfriend, not his charity case.

_ But that’s not why he’s doing it, either, _ she knew deep down.  _ That’s not how he sees me. _

It was a fight to remind herself that maybe,  _ possibly _ , he just loved her and saw the opportunity to help. And people who loved one another did things for each other without being asked. People who loved one another were thoughtful without expecting anything in return. If she, Becky, and Dawn could help each other and give without thinking, her relationship with Jim was no different. They’d already established that a long time ago, anyway. He’d always been there for her.

So, why was this nagging at her now?

Setting her unease aside, she pulled her robe in closer to her. Even with the kerosene heater and wool pajamas, she couldn’t ignore the cold. She shuffled out of the living room and back to the master bathroom, careful not to wake Lulu as she tiptoed through the bedroom. Tapping the battery-operated light on the sink inside, she tried to brush her teeth and splash some water on her face.

As she meandered back to the kitchen, expecting to be cutting up fruit and encouraging Jim and Lulu to help her finish the yogurt in the fridge for breakfast, she heard a beep and a hum.

The lamps in the living room glowed to life, as did the overhead light in the kitchen. The whirr of the central heating system kicked in, and the clock on the stove blinked 12:00.

_ Well, how about that. _

She’d predicted the power to be back on by the afternoon. Though it had been cold, windy, and snowy the night before--enough to make night travel unsafe--the snow hadn’t continued nor built up enough to deter daytime utility work. Not with the sunlight. She just hadn’t expected the power to return this early. It was barely 8:30, according to the wall clock hanging in the dining area of the kitchen.

With electricity restored and her appliances functioning, she decided a heartier breakfast was in order.

Jenna set to putting coffee on and then gathered flour, eggs, milk, vanilla extract, and blueberries. She mixed the ingredients in a bowl, forming a smooth, creamy batter, while the griddle heated up on the stove.

As she poured circles of batter onto the griddle, the door to the garage opened.

“Is it Christmas?” Jim asked excitedly, wiping his snowy boots on the mat at his feet. He yanked them off before shimmy out of his coat and stuffing gloves in the pockets. “The power’s back on. My favorite person in the world is making what  _ looks _ like blueberry pancakes…”

Jenna laughed. “Well, Christmas was weeks ago, but yes. These are blueberry.” Jim hung his coat on one of the hooks next to the door and walked over to kiss her. “Thank you for shoveling for me, by the way,” she told him.

“I woke up at 6:45 and couldn’t go back to sleep,” he stated matter-of-factly while she flipped the pancakes. “It wasn't any trouble.”

“Still, you didn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “I know, but I like helping you.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, focusing back on the pancakes to avoid his gaze.

He must have picked up on her hesitance, because he nervously asked, “Was that a problem?”

She shook her head. “No,” she lied.

It was an irrational problem to have. She knew it. Arguing over it or making it a big deal wouldn't be helpful. Still, that didn’t fool him.

“Listen, if I overstepped--”

“You didn’t,” she insisted, and sighed. Then she began plating the pancakes. “I just…” her words got caught in her throat. “I’m not used to this,” she told him. “I’ve relied on myself for a long time. I need to...adjust to having someone who wants to take care of me instead of the other way around.”

“I know,” he told her softly, sidling up next to her at the stove.

Jenna plated another pancake as she acknowledged, “It’s something I need to work on. But maybe talk to me first? Just so I’m not caught off-guard.”

He nodded somberly. “I can do that.”

He seemed to drift closer to her. It felt as though he might lean over to kiss her again. Except, before he could do that, or they could continue the conversation, Lulu’s voice chimed from the kitchen doorway. The 10-year-old, clad in flannel pajamas and bedhead, shuffled closer to the pair.

“Morning,” she yawned, then brightened up as she noticed, “Pancakes??”

“Pancakes,” Jenna confirmed. Then, holding out a plate and fork for her, she cautioned, “But I better see that fort cleaned up as soon as we’re done with breakfast.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The girl eagerly carried her breakfast to the table, staring at the fluffy flat cakes as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Jim was already grabbing butter from the fridge while Jenna searched for the Mrs. Butterworth’s. Once those were set, the two made short work of pouring coffee before finally joining the curly redhead who was dousing her pancakes in syrup.

“My only complaint about this breakfast,” Jim began while he followed Jenna to the table, “these aren’t your cranberry muffins.”

Jenna eyed him cheekily as she sat next to Lulu. “They're not supposed to be.”

“No, of course not,” Jim agreed, taking his first bite. He chewed then, after a contemplative moment said, “Oh, my god, these are fantastic.”

She smirked at him. “You expected less?”

“Oh, never,” he agreed. “I’m just obsessed with your cranberry muffins.”

“He has a point, Mom,” Lulu chimed in. “They’re magic.”

Jim looked across at her, and concurred, “Right??” 

“ _ Almost _ as good as her pies,” the 10-year-old continued. 

“But can you really compare those?” Jim pointed out. “That’s like being asked if you rather play with puppies or go to Disney World.”

Lulu nodded thoughtfully. “Ohhh...that’s just cruel. Why can’t you take the puppies  _ to _ Disney World? Problem solved.”

“Exactly.”

As she listened to them go on, Jenna picked up her coffee mug and cradled it in her hands while she leaned back, taking long, slow sips. 

“This is heartwarming,” she said while they continued to jabber, not paying a lick of attention to her. “Truly.”

Though she supposed she couldn’t complain about her two favorite people talking as if she weren’t there. Not when they were singing her praises in the one skill she felt she’d truly mastered. Not when they made her feel like the greatest connection she had to her mother was meaningful. That the years she’d practiced trying to get even close to as good as Louise Barker was were not in vain. 

And that, she decided, made her daughter’s bonding with the man she loved even more astounding. 

Maybe a little terrifying, too.

 

* * *

 

“So...Jim is really nice.”

Hours later, with a certain lanky biology teacher safe at his own apartment, leaving mother and daughter to their own, Jenna stared up from her recipe notepad. They’d spent most of the day with Jim. The three had gone outside to walk in the snow for a good portion of the morning, throwing snowballs and building a little snow-family in the backyard. There had been talk of sledding, but Jenna’s house sat nestled in a busier neighborhood without any hills. After snow angels and another snowball fight (one that turned into Jim and Lulu completely turning on Jenna to pelt her with the cold, slushy ice) they had gone inside for hot chocolate.

Lulu managed to rope Jim into hanging around and playing rounds of Clue and Uno until dinner, at which point Jenna insisted on leftover soup. (Too much sugar and not enough nutrients the last couple of days.) No one complained as she reheated it on the stove and suggested they all take their bowls to the living room and pick a movie. Jim even convinced Jenna to introduce Lulu to  _ Back to the Future _ , and they’d made it through the first film with just enough daylight for him to drive back home on freshly plowed streets.

It was one of the laziest days they’d had in ages, but Jenna couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for it. Most days, it seemed they never stopped. There was always something to do. Always someone to appease or some chore that needed to be done. It was nice to give herself permission to do...absolutely nothing.

Made all the better with the people she was enjoying her absolutely nothing with.

But now, it was just mother and daughter, each doing her own thing. Lulu was freshly showered and in the midst of a round of Splatoon while Jenna researched new dish ideas to present to Joe once the winter season was over. The 10-year-old’s question had caught her off-guard in the midst of an article about cheesecakes.

Suddenly, she felt nervous. On edge. While she knew Lulu liked Jim, there was something about the inflection in the girl’s voice that brought her back to the endless coaxing and begging she’d been put through for the last several weeks.

That’s why Jenna decided to carefully agree, “He  _ is _ really nice.”

“You seem to like him a lot,” the 10-year-old pressed.

“He’s been my friend for a long time,” Jenna reiterated. “Of course I like him.”

This answer didn’t seem to satisfy, since Lulu asked, “But do you  _ like _ him, like him?”

Jenna chewed on her lip. How was she to explain that, yes, in her child’s terms, she “liked him, liked him” without giving everything away at once? She also had to wonder just how long Lulu had been pondering this idea. How long she'd marinated on the thought of Jim as a suitable match for her mother.

She was absolutely correct this time, of course, but she was still being eased into it. Although, the fact that she was reaching this natural conclusion was helpful in the process of her accepting them as a couple, so Jenna couldn’t worry too much.

Still, she wasn’t ready to show her hand yet.

“I think the answer to that question is ‘it’s bedtime,’” Jenna interjected. It was well after 10:00 anyway.

“Awww but, Mom!” Lulu protested, pausing Splatoon and tossing the WiiU controller to the carpet.

Jenna set her notepad to the side. “I’m not having this discussion right now.”

The girl groaned and reluctantly shut down the game system. “I just wanted to know if you liked him,” she grumbled, pushing herself off the floor.

She dragged her feet over to Jenna, who silently battled with the desire to be truthful and transparent with her daughter, and the need to keep her life consistent. She watched Lulu's face for a moment, trying to put herself in her daughter’s proverbial shoes. 

Was it possible she already sensed something and felt left out? That, deep down, she could tell Jenna wasn’t telling her everything? 

Not that Jenna owed her an explanation or insight into every single sliver of her life; she was the parent in this relationship. But she had to consider how she would have felt if her own mother had kept secrets from her.

“Listen,” the older woman coaxed. When Lulu wouldn’t look her in the eye, she said, “I need you to look at me and pay careful attention.”  Once the girl obeyed, Jenna took both of her hands in her own and assured, “If and when I ‘like, like’ someone and I know you’re ready for that change, I promise to tell you. But you have to trust me.”

“I promise I’ll be fine,” Lulu argued, but Jenna countered her.

“But you’re also not used to a third person here, taking up my time and attention.” With the 10-year-old starting to relax, she encouraged her to sit next to her on the couch and wrapped an arm around her. “Neither am I, for that matter.” She ran her fingers through Lulu’s hair and added, “It’s a big adjustment, and I want to make sure we’re both happy.”

“I’ll adjust fine,” Lulu argued again.

“You can’t guarantee that,” Jenna told her. “I know you’re supportive of me dating someone, but you’re not going to know exactly how you'll feel until it happens.”

The 10-year-old sighed heavily. “I guess you’re right.” Then she looked up at her mother and said, “I still think Jim really likes you.”

Jenna arched an eyebrow. “I thought we were talking about whether or not  _ I _ like  _ him _ .”

“Well it has to go both ways, doesn’t it?”

She narrowed her eyes at her child. “I’ve taught you too much, haven’t I?” she asked, earning a mischievous giggle. Then, guiding Lulu to sit up straight, she playfully admonished, “Time for bed, stinker.”

Lulu sighed dramatically as she lifted herself from the couch. “If I must.”

_ “Yes, you must,” _ Jenna mocked, dramatizing her voice to match the child’s.

The pair moved through the house together, clicking off lamps as they went. Eventually, they said their good nights and parted ways; Lulu to the guest bathroom to brush her teeth before bed, and Jenna to her own bedroom.

Once settled into bed, she reached for her phone on the nightstand for the first time all day.

As expected, there was a plethora of texts and Facebook messages, mostly from Becky and Dawn. Did she know if the MLK luncheon was still scheduled for Monday? ( _ Yes. Right on track. And we have another one right after it. _ ) There was an incident involving the twins and an entire pack of Bubble Yum, and Ogie had to give them both buzzcuts. How did he do? ( _ That’s going to suck with this cold, but other than that, they look perfect. _ ) 

She took the time to respond and then checked through her emails. Joe needed her half an hour early on Monday morning and possibly an hour late. Okay. School was a half day, so she could probably bribe Lulu into riding the bus to the restaurant. Dawn or Becky could keep an eye on her, or even Jim could swing by to take her off their hands for a while, if neither he nor Lulu minded. At least until the luncheons were over. There would be plenty of favors owed later.

Just as her mind went into logistics mode, her phone pinged with a new text. She opened the app to read a short and simple message:

_ Thank you. _

It was from Jim.

Confused, she texted back:  _ For what? _

The three little ‘typing’ dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, just opposite her message. In a moment, she had a reply.

_ For a great night and a great day. It’s nice, getting to spend time with the two of you. And I love watching you be a mom. It looks good on you. _

She smiled to herself as she texted back:  _ You and my daughter becoming two peas in a pod looks good on you. _

_ What can I say?  _ he replied.  _ I’m charmed. She’s a special kid. _

_ She’s everything to me, Jim. _

_ I know she is. I can see how much you love her. You’re a natural. _

Jenna pulled her blankets in more snugly to her as she texted back:  _ Years of practice. _

_ They’ve paid off,  _  he replied.

Not wanting to argue and unable to come up with an appropriate response, she typed out,  _ I think I’m gonna get some sleep. Call you tomorrow? _

_ That makes both of us, and absolutely. I love you. _

As the pleasant feeling of drifting off, combined with the constant glow she felt in her chest every time they spoke began to overtake her, she replied:  _ I love you, too. Good night. _

_ Good night, Jenna. _

With that, Jenna clicked her phone off and set it on the nightstand. As she settled back into the pillows, she felt like she could be floating. 

Then all that was left was sweet dreams.


	3. February - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly not sure what I have to say about this one except a MASSIVE thank you to Laura for helping me wrangle this one in. Lots of cutting and rewriting. As usual, feedback is welcome and encouraged!

“Erica, how’s that soup coming along?”

Jenna looked over her much shorter coworker’s shoulder and to the pot of chowder simmering on the stove.

Erica smiled up at her while she stirred. “Almost done, I think.”

“Excellent,” Jenna affirmed. Then she turned to the man loading food into serving dishes and asked, “Ben, is everything else packed and ready to go?”

He pointed to the back door of the kitchen. “I’ve got Anthony and Cal hauling it into the truck now.”

“I thought I had Cal on pulled pork for the Kinder wedding.”

Ben shrugged. “He already had it done. Said he didn't want anyone touching his _specialty_.”

Jenna sighed, but decided that productivity with a little unnecessary preciousness was better than Cal not working at all. He was an ass, but he was willing to put in his time and effort. Which, she had to admit, was crucial at the moment.

February had brought with it winter wedding season at Joe’s. With so many couples setting their wedding dates close to Valentine’s Day, weekends were requiring longer hours and more hands. Which meant Jenna was working Saturdays and seeing Sundays and Mondays as her weekends, and she was up to her eyeballs in schedules and pies.

And it was only Thursday.

It was days like this Joe asked her and Becky to take headway over the staff. Not that this was a new trend; she was actually beginning to miss the days when she could disappear to her corner of the kitchen to do the baking. But the way Joe saw it, his business was growing, and he needed people he could trust to keep everything running smoothly. Since he'd lost his favorite manager, Jenna and Becky had become his go-to ladies.

And that left her where she was now. Prepping for a day full of receptions and anticipating every possible emergency that could ensue.

Thank God the snow had let up for a couple of weeks.

Jenna was on her way out of the kitchen to look over the day’s schedule to make sure they were on track when she heard her name from the double doors.

“Jenna!”

She whipped around to see white hair and a brown suit staring back at her. Joe hunched over his cane as he beckoned her over to him. He didn't look unhappy, exactly, Jenna noted. But he also wasn’t smiling. Not that he usually did.

She scampered over to him, dodging her coworkers as they carried hotplates and pots.

“Joe!” she greeted him, trying to keep her tone enthusiastic, “I thought you were up in Richmond today.”

“Eh, that was cancelled,” he dismissed. “So, I decided to come down and make sure my restaurant was still in tact.” 

He took that moment to stare around the room, a critical eye on each person. Everyone was busy doing something. Despite the chaos of the day, they’d found a rhythm.

Cooks brought the food to those in charge of making sure they were in the serving dishes. Once the serving dishes were full, sealed, and labeled, and assembly line was formed to the back door to load the food into the truck. The staff had even started using a vocal form of shorthand to communicate. A well-oiled machine.

Joe could see it, too, because he lifted his eyebrows in surprised and observed, “Though you and Becky seem to have everything under control.”

“Yeah,” Cal called out. “If they weren’t so damn bossy.”

He was walking around the corner, emerging from his previous task. He stuffed the gloves he was wearing into his coat before slipping it off to hang over his shoulder.

Becky, who had been made privy to the conversation from where she stood coaching one of the new girls, looked up and yelled back, “Get off my dick today, Cal!”

“Get off mine first!”

“Here’s an idea,” Joe chimed in, “Why don’t you both shut the hell up, act like professionals, and get back to work.”

“Sorry, Joe,” Becky called back.  

Then, shamefully, Cal looked down at his feet and announced, “I’m taking my ten.”

“Wise idea,” Joe told him, pointing his cane at him. “Before you give all of us a headache.”

Jenna and the older man watched him shuffle out the doors and away before turning back to the matter at hand.

“Alright, then,” he began, giving her his full attention, “how many do we have today?”

“Four,” Jenna told him. “Two are drop-off and self serve though, so I think it should work out pretty seamlessly.”

He got that Joe twinkle in his eye as he lowered his glasses and said, “Now, don’t get a big head about it or anything.”

“Oh, no, of course not.” Jenna tried not to grin at him as she played along.

Joe cleared his throat then, surveying the kitchen once more. He actively avoided making any eye contact with Jenna as he coyly added, “Keep this up, and I might have a new manager.”

The second the words fell from his mouth, Jenna could feel the ball of stress and anxiety that had been sitting in her tummy all day, buzzing and jittering, let loose and explode. She turned around to stare across the kitchen at Becky, who was still heavily involved with the girl she was training. Patient, despite her sassy tendencies. Instructional. Thorough.

The idea of having to compete with her friend set her entire body, not just her stomach, in knots. And while Joe hadn't said he _wouldn’t_ hire two managers, she knew how tight he could hold onto a dollar. And between their experience and the work they’d both put in, Becky was just as qualified as, if not more than, she was.

He wasn’t going to simply choose one or the other...surely. Was he? Not when he’d given them both so much trust and weight.

She wanted to protest. To ask if Becky was in consideration at all. But before she could say more, Joe was gone. Probably disappeared to his office.

With a sigh, she checked her watch. It was nearly time for the first load to be ready.

Joe would have to wait.

 

* * *

 

Around noon, Jenna managed to break from the pastries she’d had her hands deep in and the chaos of the kitchen. While Becky had hung back to talk to Cal, Jenna had gone on to the break room for lunch

She found Dawn at the table on her laptop, eating a sandwich while her attention was focused on the screen.

“Whatcha working on?” Jenna asked as she walked past, reaching into the fridge for the grocery bag she’d carried her lunch in.

“New logo,” her friend replied. “I figured it’s been ten years. We ought to spruce things up a bit.”

Jenna, interest piqued, quickly took her seat next to Dawn. As she tried to look over her shoulder, however, Dawn turned the computer away.

“What?” Jenna asked, slightly hurt.

“It’s not ready.”

“So?” the strawberry blonde shrugged. “I’m not here to judge.”

“I’m probably not gonna even show it to Joe,” Dawn deflected. “He'll never take it.”

Jenna crossed her arms. “And how do you know that?”

“Since when has he listened to _any_ of my ideas?”

“Because you refuse to share them,” Jenna argued.

Dawn deflated then, releasing a heavy breath. Finally, she said, “You’re right.” Then she looked at Jenna and revealed, “I just never think my ideas are any good.”

“Well, maybe you can start with me,” Jenna offered. “You’re practically my sister. You know I'll have your back.”

“Do you promise to be easy on me?”

Jenna cocked an eyebrow. “I promise to be _truthful_.”

“Oh, god…”

“You don’t want me to lie, do you?”

“No,” Dawn grumbled.

Jenna pointed to the laptop. “Then, let’s see it.”

With a sigh, Dawn turned the device around to reveal Photoshop open. The image on the screen was crisp and professional. It read Joe’s Catering & Events in sleek, cursive font. The words were the same leafy yellow-green as the outline of a fork and knife. She’d even incorporated chocolate brown and a light taupe into the design.

“Dawn, it's perfect!” she praised.

Dawn perked up. “You really think so?”

“Yes,” Jenna insisted. “You need to show this to him.”

“Show what to whom?”

Both women looked up to see Becky in the doorway. While she walked over to grab her lunch from the fridge, Jenna answered, “Dawn made a beautiful new logo.”

“She’s exaggerating,” came her friend’s insistence.

Becky swung her lunch pack from her fingers as she approached the table. “Can I see it?”

While she took her seat, Dawn turned the computer around again so her other friend could take a look. Becky seemed to scrutinize the screen for a moment, squinting and releasing a _hmmm_. She had Dawn on the edge of her seat.

“I love it,” she stated simply. “It looks like a professional designed it.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Jenna chimed in.

Dawn chewed her lip nervously, eyes flicking back and forth between her two friends. “Do you think...if Joe likes it, that he might let me...run it on social media?” she asked. “Do you think he’d maybe let me take headway in giving us an online presence? Since we went independent, we’ve not kept up with a Facebook or an Instagram or anything.”

“Do we even have a page?” Becky wondered.

Jenna nodded. “It's not had a post in almost three years. Everyone just calls or walks in.”

“I think I could be amazing at it,” Dawn said hopefully. “I just question how Joe would feel. But I wanna do more than field phone calls and meet with customers.”

“Then you need to _ask_ ,” Jenna encouraged. She placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder and assured her, “If it makes you feel any better, I think he’ll be thrilled with it.”

“Me, too,” Becky agreed, pulling her sandwich out of her lunch. 

Jenna followed suit, taking a bite of food for the first time all day. She’d skipped breakfast and hadn’t even realized how hungry she’d been. Now she had to stop herself from devouring turkey and provolone.

Dawn, meanwhile, ate the remnants of her lunch and picked at her bag of Skinny Pop.

“I guess I’ll ask him at our next staff meeting,” she said, finally allowing a proud smile spread across her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

Jenna was reeling when she pulled up to pick Lulu up from her after school program at 5:00. Joe’s comment had been in her head all afternoon. She considered how long she, Becky, and Dawn had been working for him. How much time they’d all put in.

A decade. It was time for them to all take another huge step up. 

She couldn't help but imagine what the company would be like if she and Becky were in charge with Dawn as their marketing strategist. They would be unstoppable, and Jenna knew that Joe knew this. That gave her hope that he would give them both management titles. And he would let Dawn take ship with advertising and social media.

But the thought that he might not give them the chance left her almost as stressed as the thought that he would. Because with elevation meant a higher pedestal to fall from. And after a long day of running around, making sure everything was ready for customers and that the staff was in order, neither idea was kosher.

She didn’t have to dwell for too much longer, though. Because the second she put the car in park, Lulu was marching down the sidewalk to the car. 

Jenna watched, noting the way her shoulders were slumped and her hand grasped too tightly to the bright pink sheet of paper she carried.

“Hi, baby girl,” the mother greeted, trying to sound cheerful.

Lulu, however, was having none of it. “Hey,” she mumbled, tossing her backpack at her feet as she slid into the passenger seat.

“What’s wrong?” Jenna asked. 

The girl shrugged and handed her the pink paper. Jenna took it and skimmed the contents.

“Valentine’s Day party?” she asked, confused. Lulu normally loved anything that involved candy and time away from class.

The child took the paper back and complained, “It’s so useless. Everyone gets so up in arms, and you can’t give a valentine to anyone without someone getting the wrong idea.”

“Isn’t that why we buy them for the whole class?” Jenna pointed out.

“I really rather not,” the child told her. “It’s a lot of work, and they get thrown in the trash anyway.”

Jenna put the car in gear and began to pull out. “How about cookies?” she suggested. “Everyone loves cookies.”

Lulu groaned a disgusted ugh. “They have so many _rules_ now, though. You can’t bring homemade, and they can’t have any kind of nuts in them.”

“Then...maybe we can get the professionals at Joe’s Catering to whip up a batch of chocolate and vanilla cupcakes,” Jenna gave her a conspiratorial grin, wiggling her eyebrows.

Lulu gasped. “That’s genius!” she declared. Then, eagerly, she requested, “Can we do pink, red, and white frosting with heart sprinkles??”

“You know it,” Jenna promised. “I’ll get Aunt Becky and Aunt Dawn to help me make them Wednesday.”

Lulu leaned across the console and, trying not to disturb her mother’s driving, wrapped her arms around her.

“Thank you, thank you!” she yelled excitedly. 

Jenna giggled, “Well, you’re very welcome.” Then she added cheekily, “You act like I never do these things for you.”

With that, they were on their merry way. Ready to call it a night.

 

* * *

 

Thursday evening passed by in a blur. Jenna thought she helped Lulu with order of operations homework. She also thought she was able to call and talk to Jim for a while.

Then Friday was nothing but pies, muffins, and cakes at Joe's. Becky and Dawn had barely been present, too consumed with bookkeeping and meeting with customers, leaving Jenna to go most of the day alone. She and Lulu had both conked our early when they got home, barely able to remember falling asleep.

Saturday found Jenna dropping Lulu at her friend Sarah's and heading back to work, overseeing on-site venue service with Becky at her side. With two weddings back to back, they were put on the later shift. Lunch time through dinner.

The afternoon wedding was their largest and most stressful. Three hundred guests in one of the smallest banquet halls in town. By 3:00, Jenna had listened to Becky and Cal bicker over pulled pork, and she’d prevented no less than four disasters involving hot mashed potatoes.

It took an hour to get the wedding party and every guest through the line for their first helping. By the time seconds came around, the serving had slowed down.

As Jenna was rounding a corner with a tray filled with peach cobbler, she found Becky and Cal at each other's throats again.

“Are you pissed off I’m in charge now?” she heard Becky ask him.

Cal bit back, “Hell, yeah, I am!”

“I thought you were supportive of this.”

He towered over her and barked, “I was until you started telling me what to do.”

“That’s my _job_ ,” Becky shoved a finger at his chest, “and if you don't like it, then you can go to hell. Or work somewhere else.”

“Maybe I will,” he challenged.

Thankfully, they were out of earshot of the guests. But before they could get any louder, Jenna cleared her throat.

The pair whipped their heads around to see her standing there. Cal chose not to say a word, instead reluctantly stomping over to take the pan from her hands and carry it back out to the banquet room.

Once he was gone, Becky shakily turned to her friend and said, “Jenna, I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” the strawberry blonde assured, gently placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “He’s an ass.”

The other woman looked like she could cry. Her lip trembled as she seethed, “I honestly don’t know why I give him the time.”

“Then don’t,” Jenna said plainly. “He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn't deserve _you_.”

“I know,” Becky whispered. “But he’s an asset to this company, and if I piss him off enough to walk out…”

She broke then. All but crumbled, pulling up a chair from a nearby table and placing her head in her hands while she sat. Jenna glanced around, satisfied they were alone in the empty side of the hall. She grabbed a chair of her own and brought it close to Becky, rubbing her back.

“Did Joe say something to you?” she asked carefully. “About hiring a new manager?”

Becky nodded and looked up through angry tears. “Weeks ago.”

Jenna swallowed. “You think he’d blame you for this and not hire you?”

“I don’t know,” Becky cried. “I really don’t. I’m just getting tired, and...I want _more_.”

The statement gave Jenna pause. What was she supposed to say? Not that Joe had talked to her about the promotion, too, that was for sure. 

So, she kept her own concerns under wraps and pointed out, “If you stay with Cal, you know you’ll be miserable. If you let him go and he leaves, Joe’s probably not going to think twice.” She paused before asking, “Is Cal worth giving up an opportunity?”

Becky sat up and wiped her cheeks. “I guess not,” she sniffled. “And who knows. Maybe he’ll decide to look for other work. For the sake of this...whatever the hell we’ve got.”

Jenna tucked a strand of dark hair behind her friend’s ear. She couldn't assure her of anything, but she could offer, “Maybe he will. And maybe you should talk to him.”

The other woman nodded. “I will.” Then she picked herself up from her seat. When Jenna followed, she said, “Because honestly I don’t know what to do with him, but I don’t know what I’d do without him. If it weren’t for all _this_ ,” she explained, gesturing around the room at large, “things might actually work.”

Jenna couldn’t pretend to understand, but she embraced Becky, pulling her close in solidarity.

“Just promise me you'll make the best decision for you,” she implored.

Her friend took a deep breath and tried to smile. “I will.” Then, bringing back that Becky spirit, she smirked. “Besides...when have you ever known me to let a man dictate my life?”

“Never,” Jenna concurred. 

“Then I think I’ll be okay.”

“Good.” Jenna reached over to adjust her friend’s apron. “Now let’s go make sure the guys don't screw up that cobbler. I worked for over an hour on it yesterday.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Jenna picked Lulu up from Sarah’s, it was after 8:00. After spending a solid fifteen minutes chatting with Sarah’s mom Tiffany and trying to get the girls wrangled, then another twenty minutes to get home, it was 9:00.

In the midst of winding down for the night, Jenna got a text from Dawn. Did she and Lulu want to go to Richmond with her, Ogie, and the twins tomorrow? They would take the van.

Jenna replied and told her that, while she herself wasn’t up for the journey, she would ask Lulu if she still wanted to go. The ten-year-old enthusiastically accepted, leaving Jenna’s Sunday wide open.

Once Lulu had gone to bed, Jenna made a point to call Jim. Jim, her comfort and her shoulder. Her soundboard, and vice versa. He’d had a tiring, stressful week, himself. (Fourth six weeks midterms were due Tuesday, and none of his kids seemed to be on the ball with their homework.) The two talked on the phone for maybe ten minutes, until Jenna couldn’t hold her eyes open anymore. At 2:00 that morning, she woke up to find her phone right next to her face on the pillow.

Hours and a deep sleep later, Jenna was getting Lulu up and ready to go. Once the child was off for her day out with the Anhorns, Jenna got herself cleaned up and made her way to Jim’s. By 10:00, she was at his door with hot coffee and fresh croissants.

Coffee that would have to be reheated, however, since the couple was on each other the second Jenna stepped into the apartment.

Neither of them were interested in a leisurely dance between the sheets either. It had been a couple of weeks since they’d had proper alone time together and used it to their advantage. Even the last few poetry club nights had been quiet dinners and nothing else.

And after the weeks they’d both had, to say they were eager was...an understatement.

Less than an hour later found them both sweaty, panting, and sated. The comforter had been kicked off Jim’s bed, and the base sheet had popped off one corner of the mattress. Jenna released a satisfied moan as she came down from her second high of the morning, and Jim rolled off of her. He lay next to her, smug grin on his face as he caught his breath.

“Feel better?” he asked.

She nodded, covering her face. “You have no fucking idea,” she mumbled. “You?”

“ _God…_ ” was all he could manage.

Jenna groaned, and lifted herself up. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Then she was padding over to the bathroom to clean up. She made quick work of it, grabbing a hand towel and tossing it to Jim on her way back into the bedroom.

“We should relieve stress like that more often,” he said matter-of-factly. 

Jenna didn't miss the way he stared as she bent over to pick up her underwear and slide it on. Soon, he was up, tossing the towel into the hamper and pulling on his briefs.

“Can't say I disagree,” she replied, picking her bra up from off the floor.

She barely got the straps on her shoulders before Jim was behind her, hooking it together. Jenna shivered as he brushed her hair aside and planted kisses across her back and up to her neck.

“I can do that myself,” she admonished, her voice too breathy and wanton to be taken seriously.

He slipped his arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder and hands finding her sides. “I know that,” he murmured. “I enjoy doing it. Almost as much as taking it off.”

She craned her neck and twisted her body to come face to face with him. “You’re incorrigible.”

Then her lips were melting into his. She tried not to think too hard about his head between her thighs not twenty minutes ago. Or the way he’d begged and pleaded when she started to return the favor. Or round two, when he’d groaned her name into her ear when she’d asked him to go _faster_ and _more_.

While they certainly had the time, Jenna’s stomach was rumbling, and she could no longer ignore it.

So, pulling herself to her senses, she told him, “Let’s finish getting dressed and go eat.”

“But I’m not hungry,” he protested. Then, kissing her neck and bringing his lips to her ear amended, “At least not for food.”

She shoved a hand into his chest at that at pushed him back. “I brought you breakfast, and I won’t have my efforts wasted.”

Jim huffed melodramatically and exaggerated an eye roll. “Well, I _guess_ , since you _insist_.”

She snickered, and his lips upturned into a teasing grin. They both shuffled around the room, Jenna gathering her jeans and the sweater she’d thrown on that morning, and Jim gathering his khakis and button-down.

Jenna followed Jim out to the kitchen. As she felt the outside of the to-go cups full of coffee that sat on the counter, she questioned whether or not to bother heating the coffee up again. Coffee was never good reheated anyway.

Jim must have taken notice to her hesitance, because he walked past her and said, “I’ll make a fresh pot.”

“Thank you.” She smiled gratefully at him as she reached for the bag with her buttery croissant. 

He reached in the fridge for the bag of whole coffee beans he kept. “Life’s too short for cold expensive coffee.” He plugged in the grinder that sat on the counter and poured the beans into the top. 

Jenna tried to ignore the loud whirring and watched the machine work its magic, turning them into fresh grounds. 

Once the apartment was quiet again, she took a bite of her croissant and asked, “So, what’s the special at Café Pomatter today, then?”

“French roast,” he announced. Then pointed to the refrigerator, “And there’s still sugar free hazelnut in there.”

Jenna watched as he busied himself with preparing the coffee pot, then she hummed thoughtfully. 

“Good sex and good coffee seem to be the common denominator when I come over,” she observed. “I chose well.”

“It’s the little things,” Jim noted, pouring water into the back of the coffee pot. “I’d say we’ve earned this after this last week.”

Jenna nodded, tearing another flaky piece off of her pastry. “You’re telling me. Did you finish getting those papers graded?”

“Unfortunately,” he lamented. “I don’t know what happened to that class, honestly. They were doing so well those first few weeks, even with the snow. But since last week, they’ve just...dropped the ball.”

“Freshmen?”

He shook his head. “Juniors and seniors. It’s probably just the second semester and the weather. Burnout is so easy.”

Jenna nodded empathetically as she sat down on one of the stools at the counter. “Burnout sucks.”

Jim clicked the coffee pot on and asked, “Kind of like at Joe's?”

“How did you guess?” she jibed. When he didn’t respond, she continued, “It’s been hell. Joe’s put me and Becky in charge, but since he hasn’t hired anyone to bake or keep finances, we’re managing on top of our jobs.”

“Do you think he’s going to finally promote you?”

Jenna shrugged. “I hope.” She bit her lip and fidgeted as she confided, “I’m just worried he’s testing us. See who caves first so he can have an excuse to promote only one.”

Jim scrunched his nose. “Wow. Stingy much?”

“The stingiest,” Jenna agreed. Then with a sigh, she confessed, “I’m worried what’ll happen if he does pick one or the other.”

Him frowned sympathetically. “Surely you and Becky are stronger than a job or money,” he attempted to encourage her.

“I'd like to think so,” she told him. “And if it comes to that, I rather just let her have it. It means a lot to her, and I _enjoy_ baking. We’ve both been working there for a decade, though…”

There was a pause while Jim reached out for her hand, observing her quietly. Then he asked, “Jenna, do you want that promotion?”

Jenna tried to breathe, to really be honest with herself. She wanted Becky to succeed. She wanted her friend to be recognized and valued, but…

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”

“And will Becky be happy for you if you get it?”

Jenna nodded. “I think so.”

Then Jim tested, “Will you be happy for her if _she_ gets it?”

Again, she nodded. “Absolutely. She’s a natural leader.”

“Then it’s not up to you,” Jim told her. “You just have to do the best work you can and let Joe decide.”

Jenna chewed on that for a minute. He was right. Nothing could get in the way of the friendship--no _sisterhood_ \--she shared with Becky. And as long as Jenna wasn’t trying to step in the way or manipulate, she had no reason to feel bad if Joe wanted her instead. 

But she still hoped he would see sense and let them work as a team. They were always better as a team.

“I sure hope you’re right,” she told Jim.

At that, he brought her hand up to his lips, giving it a peck before letting go to serve the coffee that was nearly ready. He grabbed two mugs hanging from the rack on the wall above the counter, then made quick work of grabbing Jenna’s creamer from the fridge. Soon, he was setting fresh coffee in front of her.

_God bless him._

A few sips of coffee later, and she was ready to switch gears. To focus on more positive things.

“So,” she began, taking the last bite of her croissant, “what are we doing for Valentine’s Day? Are we doing anything at all?”

Jim leaned against the counter, his face screwing up in concentration. “To be honest? I'm not big on it.”

“You aren’t?” she asked, relief settling her chest. She'd been dreading the idea of prancing around for some fake holiday for weeks. So, when he nodded, she breathed, “Thank God. It’s so unnecessary.”

“So, does that mean we’re skipping out completely?” he asked, “Because, I like the idea of at least going out. Just the two of us. It doesn't have to be a big deal.”

Jenna sipped her coffee. “I could agree to that. If I can come up with a plausible story for Lulu.”

There was a pause while Jim took a long swig of his drink. He stared off as though he had something on his mind. As though he had an idea. Jenna was about to ask him exactly what his idea was when he spoke up.

“What if,” he began slowly, “and this is _just_ an idea...what if we just...told her?”

His eyes feel to her wide and uncertain, like he’d just thrown a dart blindfolded and was waiting to see where it landed. His shoulders were sunk, and he started to look away, about to take back what he’d just suggested.

Only Jenna couldn't bring herself to disagree this time. If anything, she didn't have to explain the relationship. It made perfect sense that she could have a date for Valentine’s Day. Lulu didn’t understand the intricacies of adult relationships yet, and she didn’t have to know that Jenna and Jim were far more entangled than a single date.

So, before Jim could change his mind, Jenna told him, “I think you’re right.” 

She watched the lights turn on in his eyes at that. Saw uncertainty change to hope, delight. “So, we’re finally doing it? We’re telling her?”

She took a long drink before responding, “It’s the best opportunity we have. She needs to know.”

“Well, if you’re ready, I'm ready,” he told her, reaching out.

Then they were gravitating toward one another, embracing one another. “I’m ready,” she assured him.

 

* * *

 

Sunday evening found Jenna picking up Lulu at Dawn and Ogie’s. Her afternoon with Jim had slowed down to trading sections of the newspaper, conversation, listening to soft music, and a leisurely, almost tender round three on the couch. 

By the time she arrived at the Anhorn’s, she felt brand new. Glowing. 

Lulu seemed to have had a good day as well. Despite a long day of travel for the kids, Jenna found the girl laughing and playing Uno with the twins in the kitchen.

“Hi, mom!” she smiled brightly and waved.

Mikey was the first of the twins to speak up. “Hey, Auntie Jenna!” he called out, flashing a nearly toothless grin.

“Wanna play with us?” AJ piped up.

Jenna shook her head. “I would, but Lulu and I can only stay for a few minutes.”

“And it's almost dinner time,” Dawn called from behind the counter.

She and Ogie were passing ingredients and utensils back and forth, sharing the work, chatting idly.

“I lost another baby tooth,” Mikey announced, opening his mouth wide and pointing to a new hole between the teeth toward the back of the bottom set. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of single dollar bills. “Tooth Fairy’s made me rich.”

Jenna grinned. “Better be careful, or she might go bankrupt.”

Then she turned to make eye contact with Dawn, who gave her a little wink from across the kitchen.

“Do we have to go?” Lulu asked, putting on the puppy dog eyes. “We’re having a good time.”

“School tomorrow,” Jenna reminded her, prompting the child to lay her cards down and stand up. “Maybe we can have them over next Sunday, though?”

She looked over at Dawn and Ogie for confirmation. The couple exchanged a look and nodded at each other.

“We’d be tickled to,” Ogie told her, earning cheers from the children. Then he inquired, “Might there be some lemon meringue pie involved?”

Jenna laughed. “I think I can manage that.” Then she stared pointedly at her friend and stipulated, “As long as Dawn shares her logo with Joe at our staff meeting Tuesday.”

Dawn looked up from the stir-fry she was tending to and shot Jenna an incredulous look. “I said I would, didn't I?”

“You did,” Jenna confirmed. Then she addressed Ogie, “Not sure if she's showed you what she’s been working on, but it’s beautiful.”

“Oh, she has,” Ogie beamed at his wife proudly. “I’ve surely been blessed with a talented lady.”

Jenna watched her friend blush and grin sheepishly as the man sweetly kissed her cheek. All three kids gave disgusted groans, and Jenna had to stop herself from giggling.

They would all eventually understand.

 

* * *

 

“What do you call this one?”

Jenna glanced up from the chocolate mousse she was fluffing to look at her daughter. She handed Lulu the rubber spatula and lifted the bowl above the pan filled with an Oreo cookie crust

“Falling in Love Pie,” she said while Lulu began pouring the mousse into the pan.

The two had become ambitious after dinner and decided pie was in order. While they wouldn’t get to eat any tonight since it had to chill, it gave them something to look forward to for dessert the next day.

Once the mousse was in the pan and Jenna was spreading it, Lulu stuck a finger into the bowl to sample the chocolate.

Ignoring her mother’s scrutinizing grimace, she asked, “When did you come up with this one?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” Jenna considered, trying to recall. It had been so long. “I think I was about thirteen,” she said. Lulu rested her elbows on the counter, leaning in and listening intently. Jenna continued the tale, “I had a mad crush on this boy named Ryan Sterling, and I thought if I made him a pie he would like me.”

“Did he?” the ten-year-old asked eagerly.

Jenna chuckled and shook her head. “Not a chance,” she sighed. “I brought him a slice and his response was, ‘Aw cool, man!’” 

Lulu giggled at the way Jenna brought her voice down a few octaves and screwed up her face, putting on her best impression of an obtuse teenage boy.

The girl stood on her tiptoes then. “So, what did you do?”

Jenna grinned as she reached for homemade whipped cream and began swirling it at regular intervals around the pie. “I brought his best friend a slice the next day, asked him out, and ended up kissing him on the bus right where Ryan could see.”

Lulu’s eyes grew wide, scandalized. “Mom, you didn’t!”

“I did,” Jenna snickered. 

Except when she looked over at her young, impressionable daughter, she suddenly had a distinct image of her pulling the same shit, and had to rescind.

“Not that I'm proud of it,” she said, trying to straighten her face up. “That’s one way I do _not_ encourage you to be like me. I was _way_ too young, and it didn’t help me a bit.”

Lulu rolled her eyes. “I don’t even care about dating yet.”

Jenna cleared her throat and focused on the dark chocolate she was now shaving over the pie. “Good. You’re not allowed to yet anyway.”

She passed the jar of Maraschino cherries to the child, letting her take the stems off and place them on the dollops of whipped cream.

“So, when _am_ I allowed to date, though?” she asked, still focused on her task.

Jenna swallowed. She hadn’t actually thought of that. Damn this child’s ability to ask the tough questions…

“Well,” she began, contemplating. Then she added a teasing edge to her voice as she said, “I was twenty-two when I had you. And I know it’s closer to twenty, but we’re gonna round that up, so let's say that’s thirty. Then add another ten years to be safe, and you get...forty. You can date when you’re forty.”

The child glared at her and placed her hands on her hips. “Mom…”

“Okay, okay,” Jenna conceded. She picked up the pie and carried it over to the fridge. “That’s pretty extreme.”

She set the pie in an empty space on one of the shelves and shut the door slowly, trying to buy herself some time for an answer. She chewed on her lip as she picked up the bowls and utensils laid out on the counter.

“You can date...” she began, carrying the bowls to the sink. Was there really an age? She turned on the water to let the dishes soak, then looked back at Lulu. The ten-year-old was leaning back against the island counter, staring at her expectantly.

“You can date when you show me you’re emotionally mature enough to handle it,” she stated. It was a fair enough stipulation. “Until you become an adult, at least. Then it’s up to you.”

Lulu furrowed her brow, thinking hard. “How will I know when I'm emotionally mature enough?”

Yet another question Jenna had to consider.

She thought back to the boys she’d dated in high school. Thought about how eager she’d been to please at fifteen, and how shitty she felt when the boy she’d lost her virginity to had strung her along for months before dumping her for another girl. Thought back to catching her junior prom date with his pants down in a closet, a girl she thought had been her friend on her knees in front of him. Thought back to her senior year, when her first serious boyfriend had been courteous enough to break up with her in person, but had given the _I just think I need to focus on college_ excuse, only to be caught talking about her like a dog a week later. (“She’s a good fuck, but god, she’s a drag,” were the exact words Becky reported when she’d been brought to the principal’s office for punching him in the face, barely lucky that they were both still minors.)

Then she thought back to Earl. Earl, who she’d settled for. Earl who seemed decent enough with his music, vague broodiness, and seemingly adventurous spirit. Until Lulu came along, and Jenna had to lose the rose-colored goggles.

While she couldn’t regret her path, it certainly wasn’t one she wished for her daughter. 

Her daughter, who stood in front of her with her red curls tucked up into a ponytail. Whose heart and mind consisted of poetry, art, books, math, videogames, Catan, and pie. Who knew only the bare minimum of the facts of life because of a conversation that started with her having to write the definition of “reproduction” for her science vocabulary. Her daughter who still had no idea what a broken heart felt like, and hopefully had years before she would.

Jenna knew she couldn't protect her forever, couldn’t keep her sheltered. But any hurt or abuse she could prevent in Lulu’s life was a victory for her as a mother.

The question still remained, though: when _would_ Lulu know she was emotionally mature enough to handle dating and relationships?

Jenna went with her gut, relying on the sum of her experiences for what she’d learned in nearly 33 years of life, and finally answered, “When you can recognize your own worth and you can tell the difference between someone who fully recognizes it too, and someone who doesn’t.”

Lulu frowned at that, looking down at the floor while she let the information process. There was a long pause while Jenna waited for a response or more questions.

Finally, the girl said, “I still don’t really get it, but I guess I will eventually.”

The older woman nodded and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “You will. But right now, it’s important that you focus on just being you.”

She watched the smile return to her daughter’s face at that. Acceptance that she still had a while before she had to worry about these things; relief that, even though she was free to ask questions about concepts beyond her understanding, she had permission to just...be a kid.

Jenna thought she might cry when Lulu's next question was, “Will you help me with my reading homework?”

 

* * *

 

Jenna had Monday off. While Lulu was at school, Jim was working, and the girls were off trying to catch up on their own lives, she took the chance to clean her house and spend as much quiet time as the day could afford her. 

Jim called her during his lunch time, and she ended up asking him if he would join her and Lulu for dinner. After all, the pie sitting in her fridge couldn't go to waste.

Since their pillow fort in the living room, they’d made it a point at least once a week to have him over.  It wasn’t uncommon for Lulu to ask Jenna when they would see Jim again, either.

So, naturally, when Jenna picked Lulu up from school at 3:00 and told her they were having company, the child’s exhaustion from a rough day in the 5th grade disappeared. Jenna couldn’t get a word in edgewise the entire ride home. When they made it back, Lulu was bouncing around, asking what they were having for dinner and if Jim might want to try Forbidden Desert, and if she had time to play Splatoon before he arrived.

When Jim rang the doorbell at 6:00, Lulu was the one to greet him.

“I've got it!” she yelled, running across the house while Jenna had her hands full in the kitchen.

A moment later, she heard a familiar voice call, “Hey, kiddo!”

Lulu’s voice followed, informing him, “Mom’s in there.”

Jenna gave the veggies on the stove quick stir, just in time for the oven to beep. When Jim walked into the kitchen, she was gingerly pulling open the foil that covered fresh lemon pepper salmon. 

“Something smells delicious,” he remarked.

Lulu, who trailed  close behind him, announced, “There’s pie, too.”

“Falling In Love Pie,” Jenna clarified, eyes making direct contact with Jim’s.

He flashed a quick wink at her before trying his best to keep a straight face as he responded, “I can't wait.” 

Jenna had to turn her head away to hide the giddy smile she couldn’t stop from spreading across her face. Thankfully, she had her daughter to distract her.

“Can I go ahead and set the table?” Lulu asked

“Yes, ma’am,” Jenna replied. Then she beckoned toward the dishwasher. “Clean dishes are in there.”

The child got busy, stacking plates, forks and cups. While she began laying them out on the table, Jim stepped closer.

“Anything I can do?” he asked.

Jenna pointed to the rice cooker, on the counter behind her and told him, “You can stir that and find a serving dish. It should be done.”

“On it now.”

As he jumped straight into his task, it was everything Jenna could do not to kiss him.

Next to her, Lulu cleared her throat a little too loudly. Jenna whipped around to look at her, only to find the child smirking. Like she _knew_. 

Jenna arched an eyebrow at her. Universal signal for, “Are you sure you wanna go there?”

Silently, the child shrugged and turned to pull the pitcher of iced tea that they’d made a couple of hours ago from the fridge. And Jenna tried not to dwell on the smug satisfaction her daughter would have when she found out she was right.

 

* * *

 

“Falling In Love Pie?”

An hour later, while Lulu was in the living room engrossed in a Mario Kart Grand Prix, Jim found Jenna in the kitchen. She had dessert plates out and was slicing the chocolate mousse confection. 

“Yeah,” she said, then teased, “and what about it?”

He shrugged. “I think it’s fitting.”

“It’s supposed to be. Here,” she beckoned him, pressing a fork into one of the slices and holding it out. “Come tell me if I got it right. I haven’t made it in a while.”

“I guess I can sacrifice and play the guinea pig,” he joked.

Jenna rolled her eyes. “It must be such a chore.”

“Oh, definitely.”

They laughed, before Jenna was bringing the pie to his mouth. She watched him chew for a moment before closing his eyes and moaning. After a moment, he was staring at her, bewildered. 

“How the hell do you do it?” he asked. 

“Do what?”

“That,” he insisted, pointing at the pie tin on the counter. “That’s--that’s heaven. Here…”

He picked up a clean fork from a different plate, and sunk it into the untouched slice it sat next to. Then he held it up to Jenna, who humored him and took the bite.

“Mmmm,” she hummed appreciatively. “I didn’t do too bad.”

She and Jim were gravitating closer then. She’d long set her fork down, and he was doing the same. He stepped into her space, and she let him, finding herself reaching out. His arms found her waist, enveloping her in their warmth.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. And she knew he wasn’t just talking about the pie.

Soon, her lips were finding his, and she was melting into him. Feeling more and more at home each time he kissed her like this. There was something about the tender way he held her. Something about how soft his lips were. How intentional he was. 

She was getting lost, forgetting that she had a ten-year-old daughter in the next room. Forgetting everything except Jim. 

But she was soon reminded by the glass shattering sound of Lulu’s voice in the kitchen doorway.

“Oh, my god…”

The couple tore themselves from one another. Jenna expected a loud “I told you so!” Or an, “I knew it!”

What she hadn’t expected was the sheer look of betrayal on her daughter’s face. Disappointment. Lulu stared dumbfounded for a moment, not speaking. Then she sputtered, as though she had something to say.

Except she never got it out, instead opting to stomp out of the kitchen and toward her bedroom.

“Shit,” Jenna whispered. Then called out, “Lulu!”

She made the mistake of looking back at Jim. He was trying to pretend he wasn’t feeling anything, but she could see the way his eyes dimmed. She could see his shoulders hunch, a six-and-half-foot man reduced to mere inches.

Jenna swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm the sudden pounding in her chest.

What the hell had she done?


	4. February - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tralalalala *posts without having this chapter reviewed* tralalalala. Yeah...I don't really have much to say. But again, continued thanks for all the support and love!

**** Jenna found Lulu sitting on her bed, poetry journal in her lap, pen in hand, scribbling furiously at the page. The child didn't look up when her mother knocked on the doorway.

Instead, she mumbled, “What?”

“We have to talk about this,” Jenna told her, stepping slowly closer to the bed.

“What’s there to talk about?” Lulu asked. “You liked Jim all along. It’s whatever.”

The older woman released a heavy breath. “Is it?” Jenna asked.

Lulu shrugged. “I guess.”

“Why are you upset?” Jenna pleaded, sitting down at the foot of the twin bed. “For weeks, you've been all about me dating. You even asked me about Jim.”

The ten-year-old slammed her book shut, stuck the pen in its spirals, and tucked it under her pillow. “I know I did.”

She decided to look at Jenna now, although barely made eye contact.

Jenna continued, “And I told you that if and when I started seeing someone, I’d tell you when I felt it was right, didn’t I?”

Lulu nodded. “You did.”

“Okay.” Jenna adjusted herself on the bed, making herself more comfortable. “So, why is this bothering you now?”

The child looked away again, gaze traveling to the floor next to the bed. She fiddled with the little heart necklace she wore while she thought about her mother’s question. Jenna waited patiently, calmly.

Finally Lulu confessed, “You lied to me.”

The words cut through Jenna. She squirmed a little, searching for a reason, a justification. Had she lied? She hadn’t done anything other than what she told Lulu what she would do.

“How?”

Lulu licked her lips nervously, gaze still tense, fingers still fiddling with her necklace. “When I asked if you liked him, you avoided an answer,” she muttered. “You treated me like I was five. Like I couldn't handle knowing. And having him over like this all the time? You could have just told me why.  _ I’m not stupid _ .”

Jenna swallowed, unable to chew on the Truth Pie her daughter was feeding her. She took deep breaths, trying to steady her chest and her pulse.

“Lulu, I know you’re not stupid.” Her voice cracked as the words left her mouth. 

There was a plea in her daughter’s tone when she asked, “They, why couldn't you just tell me?”

Jenna had to stand up. She had to turn away for a moment. She began to pace the floor, trying to justify her decision. She was the parent, after all. And Lulu needed to understand.

Finally, she turned back to the child and explained, “Because it’s my job to protect you.”

“From what?” Lulu demanded. “From Jim? What’s he gonna to do to me?”

“Nothing,” Jenna told her, tensing, trying to keep herself collected. “He’s not going to do anything. But Lulu…” She stopped, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she glanced back up at her daughter, the child was watching her expectantly, waiting. She knelt down at the bedside, bringing herself to Lulu’s level. 

“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of,” she said honestly, taking one of her daughter's small hands in hers. “I've been hurt, and I’ve gotten involved with men who didn’t treat me like they should.”  _ Including your father _ , she wanted to add. This wasn’t the time for that conversation.

“That was a long time ago, though,” she continued. “Now I have you, and I need to know that anyone I bring into this house, anyone I bring into  _ your _ life, is going to be kind, loving, and respectful with both of us.” 

She reached to tuck a red curl behind Lulu’s ear. “I love you. You are the most important person in my life.” Then, she placed a finger on the child’s chin and stressed, “I couldn't live with myself if I brought someone in and he hurt you.”

“Jim won't hurt me, though,” Lulu whispered. 

Jenna shook her head. “No, he won’t,” she agreed. “But he and I have a history. There are never any guarantees in relationships, and I needed to see that you could both get along.”

“We do.”

“You do.” Jenna nodded. She cleared her throat and added. “Now the question is…are you ready for me to date? Like truly ready? Because this is more to me than I think you realize.”

Lulu’s brows knit together at that. “What do you mean?”

“This isn't casual,” Jenna told her. “I plan to make this last as long as we can make it.”

“Isn't that what you’re supposed to do anyway?” the child asked. “Try to make it last?”

Jenna chortled, pushing herself up from the floor and sitting back down on the bed again. “It doesn't always end up like that. And not everyone goes into every relationship with that intention.”

“Oh.” Lulu stared down at her hands, considering it. Then she looked back up at her mother. “But you want that with Jim?”

Jenna nodded. “And I’ll be spending a lot of time with him,” she explained. “He’s gonna take more of my attention than maybe you’re used to. He'll be around quite a bit. Our routine, everything we’ve been doing...it’s gonna start changing.”

The child frowned “A lot?” 

Jenna shook her head. “Not completely,” she said. “And not all at once. It’s gonna take some time to establish a routine that includes him and leaves room for all of us. Especially while we figure out exactly where all this is going.”

They both fell quiet while Lulu nodded. Jenna didn’t try to explain further. Didn’t push. 

She did, however, need to own up to her oversight. How poorly she’d approached the situation, despite not being entirely wrong about wanting to protect her child.

“Listen,” she began softly, resting a hand on Lulu’s ankle, “I’m sorry for not being more honest with you. I did need to take my time in making sure this was right for us, but I could have handled it better.” She reached for Lulu’s hand and continued, “You’re a smart girl, and you can handle more than I want to admit sometimes.”

She waited for the child to respond. Letting her apology sink in, hoping desperately to bridge this new gap. Lulu reached for the fuzzy spare pillow next to her and tucked it into her chest, hugging it.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re just trying to do the right thing for me. Not everyone can say that about their parents.”

Jenna frowned, her heart sinking at the thought. Her daughter was very lucky, indeed. All of the pieces had fallen into place for her. Even Jenna forgot sometimes what she herself had come from. The fact that Lulu had the foresight and maturity to understand this, though, meant she must have done something right.

“You’re right,” she affirmed, trying not to choke on her words. “Not everyone can.” With a deep, steady, breath she lifted herself from the bed once more. “So...are we okay?” she asked.

Lulu nodded. “We’re okay.” Then, eyes turning downcast for a moment, she began hesitantly, “But...if it’s all right, I kind of wanna be by myself for a while.”

Jenna didn’t fight the ten-year-old’s request. She didn’t need to explain herself. It was a lot to take in. It was also a school night, and Lulu would need to start winding down anyway. Not to mention that Jim was in the other room, waiting to find out if the daughter of the woman he loved suddenly hated him. 

“Okay,” the mother whispered. Then she leaned over to kiss Lulu’s forehead. “I’ll be back in to say good night soon.”

With that, Jenna tried to ignore the knots still in the pit of her stomach as she slipped out of the bedroom and back down the hallway.

She found him in the kitchen, washing the last few dinner dishes. He worked a little too quickly, a little too tensely as he scrubbed a plate. Jenna felt the knots grow tighter as she paced herself slowly toward the sink.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she told him.

“I wanted to give you and Lulu space,” he explained, his voice low, just on the edge of breaking. “It was all I could think to do to keep from sitting there.”

He passed her the plate he was working on, and she picked up the dish towel from the counter to dry it. Before he could pick up another plate, she implored, “Please. I’ll get the rest of these.”

She watched him slowly rinse soap suds from his hand and turn off the tap. When he asked for the towel, she passed it to him and waited patiently. They stood in deep silence, too much buzzing between them that neither wanted to begin to address. Jenna busied herself putting the already clean dishes away so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

This had hurt him. Lulu’s reaction had struck a chord. Whether it was because his relationship with Jenna seemed to hinge so much on the child’s approval, or whether it was Jenna’s insistence on keeping everyone in the dark, maybe both, Jenna couldn’t tell.

“How’s she doing?” Jim finally broke the silence, jumping straight onto the back of the elephant in the room. “Lulu, I mean. Is she...okay?”

Jenna licked her lips and measured her words carefully. “She’s fine,” she assured. “I think she’s just upset with me for not being upfront, and, well...this is a bombshell.” Her shoulders tensed as she opened the utensil drawer and sorted forks, knives, and spoons into their proper compartments.

“It is,” Jim agreed, fiddling with the shiny silver links that made up the band of his watch. 

Jenna closed the drawer, trying not to slam it. “You know her beef isn't with you, right?”

“It’s not?”

Jenna shook her head. “It’s me. It’s all me,” she told him. “I should have been more honest with her. I shouldn't have tiptoed around it.”

Jim, in all his patience, stepped closer and began rubbing gentle circles across her back.

“Jenna, you didn’t know,” he assured her. “You’re a mom who wants the best for your daughter. You’ve never been in this position before, and neither has Lulu.”

“But this has hurt  _ both _ of you.”

“Yes, it hurts,” he admitted. “A lot. But that's because I want Lulu to  _ like _ me. She's the child of a woman I love very much, and in the few months I've gotten to know her, she's become as important to me as her mom is.” There was a long pause while he seemed to measure his next statement. “I also know I can’t force it. And you shouldn’t try to, either.”

Jenna closed her eyes then, trying to quiet a thousand thoughts and ideas and faces of people she loved that were running through her head. 

Finally, with a calming breath, she collected herself enough to level with him. Standing up straight and facing the man at her side, she gave him her final assessment of the current situation.

“I think she just needs to adjust,” she said. “She might be a little...weird for a bit. At least until she knows exactly how she feels about all of this. The changes. Me actually having feelings for somebody. You not simply being ‘mom’s cool friend Jim’ anymore.”

Jim nodded. “Is she still in her room?”

“Yeah. She wanted to be alone.”

She reached out for his hand and he took the invitation to step closer. “I should probably go.”

“You don’t have to,” she told him.

He kissed her temple and assured, “I know. But it’s getting late anyway. We should all get some rest.”

He brushed past her, and she followed him to the living room. Neither of them spoke while he grabbed his coat from the rack next to the front door and slipped it on. Jenna could feel the heaviness radiating off of him. She could see the sting of Lulu’s initial rejection in the dullness of his usually bright grey-blue eyes. Could hear it in his silence.

“Good night, Jenna,” he told her softly while he opened the front door, wind chill sweeping in behind him.

He stepped out onto the porch, and Jenna brough her hands into the sleeves of her sweater, wrapping her arms around herself as she stood in the doorway.

“She’ll come around,” she said. Then, waiting until he looked her straight in the eye, she promised, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Another pause while his lip curled into a bittersweet half-smile.

“Me, neither.”

She watched him stuff his hands into his pockets as he walked through the dark, down the steps and to his car. The cold rocked her bones while she waited for him to pull out and drive down the road.

Once he was gone and she was safe in the warmth of her house again, she allowed her heart to break. Slowly walked down the hall to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

It would be fine, she knew. Deep down, she knew Lulu liked Jim and would accept this relationship. She knew Jim would go home, get some sleep, and wake up reassured that Lulu’s rejection was not aimed at him, and it certainly wasn’t permanent. She knew he would call her tomorrow some time, and they would fall back into their rhythm. Thursday, they would have their date night, and it would likely end at his apartment with wine and a trail of clothing from the couch to the bedroom. If she didn’t have to work Saturday, they might extend an olive branch to Lulu, maybe take her out for pizza and bowling or to a movie of her choice.

Jenna’s  _ brain _ knew all of this. The problem was that her  _ heart _ was still catching up.

She lay on the bed and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and steadily. Suddenly, the exhaustion from the previous week began to catch up with her, as did the lack of vitamin D intake she was getting with the cold and the shorter daylight hours. She needed to get back up and finish cleaning the kitchen, and she needed to check in on Lulu again.

But, for a few precious minutes, she sank into the heaviness so she could let it go afterward. 

This was a bad night. That’s all it was.

Just a bad night.

 

* * *

 

Jenna didn’t sleep well.

The next morning found her brewing the coffee stronger than usual and trying not to overthink the lack of a good morning text from Jim. He didn’t text her every morning, or every night, for that matter. She also tried to be understanding of Lulu’s quietness. The night before, Jenna had found her asleep with a book on her chest. She’d had to turn out her lamp and tuck her in. 

The drive to Lulu’s school was silent, and the drive from the school to Joe’s left Jenna empty.

She arrived to find a list of pies and cobblers she was responsible for. With very little of a greeting to Dawn and barely a passing glance at Becky, she dragged her feet to the kitchen.

If they could tell something was wrong (they probably did) they kept it to themselves. 

At 9:00, she glanced up at the clock, wondering how the hell she’d only been there an hour. By 10:00, she was covered in flour and barely caught up to meet her first deadline. While the kitchen buzzed around her, Becky taking charge for the day, she barely held her eyes open while she whipped up a meringue for her newest creation: Build Me Up Buttercup Butterscotch Pie. 

A slice of hope she desperately wished she could have, but she could at least give to someone else. Even if she knew it would  _ not _ be up to her standard today.

By noon, she took her lunch alone. She’d purposely let herself become too preoccupied with the cordial cherry cobbler and missed her friends in the break room. Once she’d finally stepped away to eat, she threw back a protein shake and some fruit in just a few minutes, trying to avoid idle chit-chat with anyone else who decided to join her in the break room.

At 1:30, Joe showed up for the staff meeting. Jenna tried to ignore how much the hard chair she was forced to sit in hurt her back while she and her colleagues seated themselves around the round table in the spare “conference” room. (Really a glorified break room, as far as Jenna was concerned.)

She tried not to drift off while Joe drawled on about attendance importance and the weather. (She was  _ not _ someone who called in arbitrarily, or at all for that matter.) Twenty minutes into the meeting, Becky had to reach over and nudge her.

She jolted out of her doze. “Sorry,” she whispered over to her friend.

Joe hadn't noticed, evidently, because he was lecturing the new hires on dress code and hygiene practices.

“This is not an establishment that tolerates health code violations,” he pressed. “If you can’t understand that gloves need to be changed and long hair needs to be tied back, then I can’t help you.”

He gestured over to Jenna, Becky, and Dawn, then bragged, “Just ask these ladies. They've been here for as long as I can remember.” Jenna stiffened up when he pointed specifically at her. “In ten years, I’ve never seen Jenna so much as touch a measuring cup before washing her hands.” Then he pointed at Becky and praised, “And this one busts her ass scrubbing that damn grease trap once a week.”

Then he walked up behind her and Becky, placing a hand each on one of their shoulders. “These two right here...they’re your example.”

Jenna swallowed and glanced over at her friend. The only thing Becky could do was shrug.

On her other side, Dawn stared blankly up at Joe. Jenna watched the smaller woman tighten and tense when their boss stepped behind her.

“Miss Dawn here,” he began, “Well, she’s not in the kitchen, but even she keeps that storefront spic and span for our customers.”

The three women gaped at one another. When the hell did Joe go around singing their praises? When the hell did they become, in his eyes, the supreme ones to look up to?

“Hell,” Joe continued, “ _ Cal _ knows what he’s doing and follows our book! There’s no excuses anymore, children. I wanna see better practice starting today.” He picked his cane up from where it rested against the seat he wasn’t using, and he stood with it directly in front of him. “Any questions?”

At the group’s simultaneous and shameful head shake, he pursed his lips while he scanned the room. 

“Good,” he finally said, dropping the issue‍. 

Taking his cane in one hand and hobbling over to the white board Dawn had ordered for him, he uncapped a dry erase marker and turned back to his employees.

“If there are no comments or concerns, I’m going to open this up to your ideas now,” he announced. At their silence, he deadpanned, “Now don’t everyone jump up at once…”

Jenna’s gaze fell back to Dawn. Next to her, Becky was nudging the smaller woman and whispering. Dawn’s eyes pleaded with Jenna not to make her speak up.

Jenna was about to encourage her, or even call Joe’s attention to her. She could even see Dawn timidly raising her hand and reaching over for the laptop she’d brought in with her, when one of the new hires spoke up.

“Have we thought about changing the color of our t-shirts?” the young woman, who couldn’t be any more than twenty-two or twenty-three asked. “Because this powder blue is not good for my complexion.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Sure, I’ll get a color palette and a fashion consultant down here immediately.” When the young woman sunk down into her chair, he looked around the room and asked, “How about some  _ real _ ideas?”

“ _ Dawn _ ,” Becky whispered urgently.

Jenna leaned over and pleaded, “Go. Seriously.”

Their friend stammered for a moment and then stuttered while she tried raising her hand again.

She cleared her throat.

Joe looked up and held his hand out to her, “Yes, Dawn?”

“I, uh…” she swallowed, eyes flitting back and forth between each of her colleagues and her boss. 

Jenna gave her an encouraging nod, and she continued.

“I wanted to ask about...social media,” she said quietly.

Joe leaned in, cupping his ear and beckoning to her. “Repeat that. I can’t hear a word you're saying.”

“Social media,” Dawn spoke louder. “Our Facebook page has died. We never use Twitter or Instagram. Everything’s word of mouth.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Joe challenged leaning back on his toes now. “People like us, they tell other people about us. That's how it’s always worked.”

“I--I understand,” Dawn stuttered, “but I think putting ourselves out there online again, really pushing it, will get us more attention.”  She opened her laptop then and said, “Look, I made something we could use.”

Joe’s white eyebrows knitted together as Dawn signed in and browsed her files. He watched with a pinched face as she clicked on the file with her logo. When it popped up, she expanded it to full screen and slid the computer in his direction. Heads around the room craned to get a look, and Joe pulled up his glasses to see better.

“We can freshen up our look,” Dawn explained. “New logo, new methods. It’s 2019. People use the internet. That’s how they communicate. We’re doing well, but this will open us up to an even bigger crowd.”

Across the tables were murmurs of  _ wow _ and  _ ohhhh _ . Admiring, wide eyes studied the logo on the screen. Even Joe found himself at a loss for words, stepping back.

“That’s certainly something,” he agreed, impressed. Then, skeptically, he amended, “But who’s gonna be in charge of all this?”

“I’ll do it,” Dawn announced. Then she addressed the room at large, “And I’ll get everyone’s help. Pictures of our menu items. Photo ops with satisfied clients. We can collect those, right?”

The group nodded, chatter building again.

Joe still eyed her skeptically. “It would be a massive change…”

“It would be,” she agreed, “but it’s worth a try.”

Joe bobbed his head contemplatively. His gaze fell to Jenna and Becky, and he asked, “I suppose you two are on board with this?”

They nodded vigorously.

“We’ll help her, too,” Becky offered.

Joe sighed heavily and capped the marker he’d not even bothered to use. It fell to the metal at the base of the board with a  _ click clack _ . He began to pace, both hands clutching the top of his cane. 

“It's something to think about,” he conceded, “but I need time to consider. I’ve been in this business for a long time, and I don't like to fix what ain’t broke.”

Dawn quietly stood up to reach for her laptop. “I understand, Joe.”

Just as Jenna could see her friend getting ready to his back in her personal turtle shell, she looked over to notice that conspiring twinkle in Joe’s eye that he got when he didn’t wanna outright admit someone had outbid him.

“We’ll give it serious consideration,” he promised.

Dawn, who must have noticed, too, smiled to herself. 

Just as Jenna reached across Becky to grab Dawn’s hand, Joe was eyeing her again.

“We’ve got some real talent and grit in this company,” he stated, his significant look not lost on the strawberry blonde. Then he continued to the rest of the staff, “I wanna see you all start acting like it.”

The group sat in stony silence at that. For a minute, Joe stared around the room, waiting to see if any of his constituents would speak up. When they didn’t, he picked up his cane and began to hobble toward the door.

“Well, if that’s it,” he told them, “let’s get back to work.”

The staff didn’t need to be told twice.

 

* * *

 

“Do you think he liked it?” Dawn asked Becky and Jenna later while they wiped down the front of the store.

Becky swiped a rag across the counter and chortled. “You say that as though Joe likes anything.”

“She’s got a point,” Jenna piped up from the table she was wiping down.

“He smiled at me,” Dawn pointed out while she washed down the front window, working around the various stickers of hearts and little Cupid silhouettes. “He never smiles.”

Becky shivered. “I get nervous when he smiles. I can’t help but wonder what demon or ghost has possessed him.”

“He’s not demon-possessed, Becky,” Jenna chided. “Joe’s ornery and contrary, but he’s not awful.”

“Guess not,” her friend huffed. “But he gets under Cal’s skin, and Cal gets under mine.”

At that, Dawn sing-songed, “Sounds like that's a  _ Cal _ issue and not a  _ Joe _ issue…”

Becky grunted. “Leave it, Dawn.” She went harder with her rag, as though she were trying to wipe a hole in the counter. “I’m not dealing with him right now.”

“What’d he do this time?” Jenna asked.

“Who the hell knows.” He friend stepped back from the counter and threw down the cloth. “I haven’t heard from him since Sunday.”

Dawn shrugged. “Maybe it’s better for you, hon,” she suggested. “You guys need a break.”

“I gave him an ultimatum,” Becky revealed.

Jenna arched an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

“He quits Joe’s and finds work elsewhere,” she said, “or he drops the macho pride and accepts that I have pull in this company.”

“What if he doesn’t do either?” Dawn asked.

Becky brought her voice down, her face resting into a dark grimace. “Then he and I are done. I’m tired of not knowing where I stand with a man who feels threatened by me for no reason.”

“Good for you,” Jenna affirmed, setting her own rag down and pushing chairs into the table. She wiped her hands on her apron and stretched her back. “You shouldn’t put up with the bullshit.”

“I don’t,” her friend agreed. Then she muttered under her breath,  _ “No matter how great the sex is…” _

Jenna and Dawn exchanged a look at their friend’s openness. They said nothing, instead refocusing on their tasks. Jenna took to updating the little chalkboard near the window with the monthly specials. She'd even included little pink and red hearts.

“So,” Jenna spoke up, changing the subject, “how do you guys feel about helping me bake about forty cupcakes for your favorite niece tomorrow?”

“Forty?” Becky asked. “What for?”

“Valentine’s Day.” Jenna stood back to admire her handy work on the chalkboard. “Her class has a party Thursday.”

Dawn stood on her tiptoes to reach the top of the window she was working on. “I think we can handle that.”

“Anything for my girl,” the other woman confirmed. 

At that, Jenna wiped the chalk dust off her hands and told them, “Thanks, girls.”

At the thought of her daughter, she fell quiet, her heart sinking just a little. She honestly didn't know what to expect when they got home. She didn’t know if another conversation would need to be had, or if that could wait. With the end of their day drawing to a close, she had little time to prepare herself for the possibilities.

“Hey, you okay, hon?” Dawn asked.

Becky dropped her rag on the counter as she stepped closer. “Man got you down?”

“No, not exactly,” she said. “Jim’s great, I just…” She released a frustrated huff. “Lulu knows.”

“Take it that didn’t go well?” Dawn guessed.

Jenna shook her head. “She caught us before we could actually tell her, and she freaked out.”

Both of her friends made noises equivalent to  _ yikes _ .

“How did Lover Boy feel about that?” Becky asked.

“A little wounded,” Jenna sighed, “but he’ll be fine. I’m just not sure about Lulu.”

“Oh, sweetie, it was probably just a knee jerk reaction,” Dawn assured.

“She’s your daughter,” Becky reminded her. “How many curveballs in your life have you bounced right back from?”

Jenna didn’t respond to the question. Where the hell was her friend going with this?

“She’s one of those curveballs,” Becky continued. “If she can’t handle her strong, resilient mother finding love, then she didn't learn or inherit anything from you. And we  _ know _ that’s not the case.”

“She’ll be okay, Jenna,” Dawn chimed in. “Just let her process.”

Jenna nodded. “I know. It’s just...uncertain.”

She felt warmth as Becky placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she tried to take her friend’s words to heart.

“It’s going to be all right,” Becky assured. “This is all part of your kid growing up.”

Soon, they were both surrounding her, and Dawn was encouraging her. “You’ve got this.”

It wasn’t anything she didn’t already know, but Jenna had to admit it was nice to hear. Maybe it didn’t solve everything, but it certainly helped. She didn’t know what she did to deserve these women she called best friends. She didn’t know how to tell them how grateful she was for them, either.

So, she settled for telling them, “I love you guys.” Then, glancing down at her watch and noting the time, she said, “I think it’s time to call it a day.”

 

* * *

 

Lulu was more talkative when Jenna picked her up from her after school program. She chatted about school and the Valentine’s Day art project her class had worked on; they’d all written kind words on heart-shaped red and pink pieces of paper and layered them on a poster board. She also needed help with a Black History Month project for social studies. They were to create a poster and give a presentation by the end of the following week.

Once the pair made it home and Jenna had made dinner, they spent an hour researching prolific writer Maya Angelou and taking notes down. Lulu had even found a poem called “Life Doesn’t Frighten Me” that she decided to include.

After calling it a night on the research, and Lulu taking a shower, mother and daughter found themselves in Jenna’s room.

The two sat on the bed. Lulu’s back was to her mother while the older woman braided her hair. While she patiently waited, the child began to practice reciting her poem.

“‘I've got a magic charm,’” she read off of the paper in her hands, “‘That I keep up my sleeve. I can walk the ocean floor and never have to breath.’

“‘Life doesn't frighten me at all. Not at all. Not at all.’”

She dropped the repetition of the last line and tilted her head back slightly as she asked, “How was that?”

“Beautiful,” Jenna smiled, wrapping the hair band around the end of the French braid to hold her handiwork. “Since you’ve got poetry club tomorrow and I work Saturday, we can get your poster board on Friday and try to work on it Sunday.”

Lulu frowned, confused. “Why not Thursday?”

Jenna licked her lips nervously as Lulu flipped around on the bed to face her. Was this going to be a sensitive subject after last night.

With nothing else to losel, she steeled herself as she told Lulu, “I...have a date Thursday night.”

The child paused, soaking it in. “Jim?” she surmised.

Jenna nodded. “We thought it would be nice for Valentine’s Day.” A pause, then she asked, “Are you okay with that?”

“I guess,” Lulu shrugged, refocusing on the printed poem. “You’re the grown-up.”

“You know, we were planning to tell you,” Jenna said, reaching out to place her hand on the ten-year-old’s shoulder. “That’s kind of what yesterday was supposed to be.”

“But I found out the wrong way?” Lulu guessed. At Jenna’s confirming nod, she revealed, “I really do like Jim.”

“I know you do.”

Lulu gazed up at her and asked, “Does he make you happy, mom?”

The question caught Jenna off-guard. As did most of the things her daughter asked or had to say. This question just happened to stump her in a way others didn’t. How would her daughter think to ask this? When, in all of the conversations that they’d had, would she have been prompted to wonder such a thing?

Jenna squirmed just a bit and decided on the simplest truth. “He does,” she said. “He makes me very happy.”

“Good,” Lulu smiled.

Soon, the child was stretching and yawning. Jenna craned her neck to check the clock. Already after 9:00.

“I think it’s bedtime,” the mother said, patting her daughter on the back.

Lulu didn’t argue, only stood up from the bed to give Jenna a hug. “Night, mom.”

“Night, my girl. Love you.”

She watched Lulu wander off to her own bedroom and was hopeful. At least more than she was this morning.  _ Way _ more than she was the night before.

On the nightstand, her phone  _ plinked _ . A text from Jim.

_ Are you still up? Can I call, or can you call me? _

Jenna didn’t hesitate before pressing his name. The phone rang a few times, and she began to wonder if he might ghost her. But soon, she heard his voice on the other end.

“Hey.”

Jenna lay back on the bed, sinking into her pillows. “Hey, you. What’s going on?”

“I just missed you today,” he told her, “and I didn’t like how we left things last night.

“You know I don’t hold anything against you, right?” she asked.

His voice was certainly lighter than it had been when he'd left. “I know. How’s Lulu?”

“A lot better,” she told him. “Like I said, I think we just caught her off guard.”

“Are we still on for Thursday?” he asked, hopeful.

Jenna smiled. “I already asked Becky if she’d...whatever the version of babysitting for a kid who’s ten going on thirty is.”

She could hear Jim's chuckle on the other end. “That kid is something else.”

“Tell me about it,” she laughed with him. “Sure you wanna get yourself into this?”

“I'm too in love and attached to turn back now,” he told her. He paused for a moment before growing serious again. “Lulu’s a great kid, and she’s your number one priority. As long as she understands that I’m looking out for both of you, that I  _ care _ about both of you, that’s the important thing.”

Jenna began to twirl a strand of hair around her finger. An old habit. “I think she’s starting to catch on.”

“Good.” Then he cleared his throat. “Anyway, it’s late. Maybe I can swing by the restaurant tomorrow morning before work? Bring you a coffee?”

Jenna perked up at that. “Double shot with sugar free hazelnut?”

“Way ahead of you,” he promised. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” she parroted. Then, softly, she added, “Good night, Jim.”

“Good night, Jenna.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Jenna wandered into Joe’s with her coffee and a shiteating grin on her face. Becky and Dawn were up front, watching her as she strolled behind the counter to hang up her coat and her purse, humming as she went.

Becky leaned against the wall and arched an eyebrow at her. “Someone’s in a good mood.”

Jenna shrugged. “Yeah? It’s been a good morning.”

“And what does that entail?” Dawn asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Jenna insisted, sipping her drink. But they continued to stare her down, Becky with a hand on her hip, Dawn with her arms folded. “ _ Nothing _ .”

And it truly had been nothing. Jim had brought her the coffee as promised. They’d had a few minutes, so she’d sat with him in his car in the parking lot and shared a bagel. There had  _ maybe _ been a few steamy kisses and a lot of Jenna half-heartedly chiding when Jim’s hands began to wander. There had  _ maybe _ been some torturous teasing on her part when she let her own hands wander. There had  _ maybe _ been some whispered promises of his intentions for their date tomorrow night--intentions that did  _ not _ include clothing after dinner.

But other than that, no. Nothing had happened. They were both two grown adults who could control themselves; not hormonal teenagers.

“Okay, then,” Becky said, unconvinced.

Jenna rolled her eyes and set her coffee down to fish in her purse for a ponytail holder.

“Jim brought me coffee, okay?” she relinquished while she tied her hair back. “I’ll spare you the dirty details of my parking lot rendezvous.”

“Ohhhh,” Dawn trilled.

Becky smirked. “Is ‘coffee’ code for something?”

“Might be,” Jenna played along, knowing she’d never hear the end of it if she didn’t. “Wouldn’t you all like to know.”

Becky mimicked Dawn’s scandalized  _ oooohhhhhhh _ while Dawn giggled. Meanwhile, Jenna threw them both a wink as she began to wander toward the back hallway.

“Come help me make those cupcakes for Lulu once the first run is finished,” she called back to them. “Lunch is on me today.”

“Got it!” they both hollered back.

Then it was time to start the day.

 

* * *

 

Thursday night found Jenna breaking out her makeup bag for the first time all week. She decided to put in effort and spent a good twenty minutes on her face alone. She’d shaved and moisturized and pulled out a fitted, low-cut red dress she’d bought months ago but never got to wear. The skimpy black lace she’d chosen to wear underneath it felt just as uncharacteristic, but it was part of the fun.

They’d agreed that they didn’t want to make this a big deal. It was a made up holiday specifically for greeting card and candy companies and Walmart to profit from. It was senseless and shallow.

But that didn't mean she couldn’t enjoy herself. That she couldn’t let herself feel sexy and beautiful.

Not just for Jim, but for herself.

Jenna slipped on a pair of underused heels and tried to remind herself how to walk in them as she tread down the hall to the living room. The straps hurt, and she would probably regret wearing them, but dammit she was going to fully commit.

Lulu and Becky were sitting on the couch, focused on a game of Mario Kart, when she walked in.

“Wow!” The ten-year-old breathed when she noticed her mother, “Mom, you look beautiful!”

Becky, meanwhile, wolf whistled at her. “Where in the world have you been hiding that figure, girl??”

“Oh, hush,” Jenna chided. “It's nothing.”

Her friend trailed off in sing-song, “He’s gonna lose his mind and a few other things…”

“ _ Becky _ .”

Jenna's gaze whipped over to her ten-year-old. She was old enough to know the basics of the birds and the bees, but she didn’t need to be made privy to implications about her mother’s sex life. 

Thankfully, the child seemed unfazed, still innocently grinning.

“You look amazing,” she reiterated. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

As if on cue, with the utmost mercy, the doorbell chimed.

“ _ I _ wanna get it,” Lulu insisted, pausing the game and standing up.

Jenna let her, finding no reason to argue. She watched her daughter slowly walk over to the front door. Her movements seemed calculated as she turned the doorknob, swinging it back.

“Good evening, James,” the child greeted him, her voice formal and dramatic, taking on what wasn’t quite a British accent.

For a moment, Jenna wondered if Jim would take offense to her child using his full name--no one used it. However, like the incredible, gracious person he was, if he was bothered at all, he let it slide.

“Why, good evening, Miss Lulu,” he took the cue and greeted in kind. Then, looking over her shoulder and shooting Jenna a wink, he asked, “Is Miss Jenna about?”

Lulu stepped aside and held her arm out, gesturing grandly inside. “This way.”

As he stepped forward, he and Jenna couldn’t help but exchange amused looks. She noted that he’d put on her favorite tie and had worn one of his best button-downs. She could also smell a fresh spray of his cologne. 

He’d gone all out, too, apparently.

“You look incredible,” he breathed, breaking from the formality and looking her up and down. 

She swallowed, feeling the wantonness radiate off of him, igniting her own. (The texts they’d been exchanging all day had certainly added to the anticipation.)

“So do you,” she said lamely, forgetting any semblance of an original line. 

It was impossible to flirt with an audience.

“These are for you, madame,” he picked up the formal charade again as he passed her a small bouquet of roses he’d carried in with him.

_ This wasn’t making a big deal? _

Jenna held her tongue about their agreement as she gratefully accepted the flowers. “Why, thank you.”

Just as she was about to ask Becky if she could find some water for them, Lulu stepped in. She found a spot smack dab between her mother and Jim and postured.

“Now, let’s get a few things straight,” Lulu made herself as stern as she possibly could at four feet, ten inches. “I want her home by 10:00, and you have to pay the check.”

“ _ Lulu _ ...” Jenna started to scold her, but Jim shook his head and reached over to give her hand a gentle squeeze.

He made a show of screwing up his face in concentration. Like he  _ really _ had to think about the child’s terms.

“Well, the first one should be manageable,” he ventured. “But the second one is depending on whether or not your mom will  _ let _ me pay.”

Lulu crossed her arms and shot a scandalous glare at her mother. “Ans why wouldn't you?” she grilled her.

“I raised you,” she dared her to even  _ try _ to argue. “I can afford my own dinner bill.”

Her child release a  _ hmph _ before turning back to Jim. “Fine. Next thing…” she began, crossing her arms and wandering closer to him. “I need to know that your intentions are honorable.”

In the background, Jenna could hear Becky holding back laughter. She turned around to shoot her friend a  _ shut up  _ look, only to fail miserably at hiding the grin she was holding back. But even as Becky calmed down, she was bearing likeness to the Cheshire Cat.

Meanwhile, Jim promised Lulu, “I will make sure she has a wonderful time and she’s treated like a lady, and I will be the perfect gentleman.”

Lulu pursed her lips, thinking. Finally, she nodded and said, “Okay. I’ll accept.”

Jenna chuckled and shook her head as she reached over to hug her daughter. “You’re a goober,” she told her, breaking their little game. “Behave for Aunt Becky.”

“I will,” the girl promised. 

Then Jenna turned warningly to both her friend and her daughter. “Not too late. It's a school night.”

“Oh, relax,” Becky dismissed as she stood up to take Jenna's flowers. “I’ll have her nice and sugared up for you when you get home.”

“I’m serious,” Jenna emphasized as she and Jim began to make their way toward the door. He picked up her coat from the rack and held it out for her, helping her slip it on.

“I know,” her friend assured. “Now, go have fun, ya crazy kids. I’ll put these roses in water.”

“Okay,” Jenna called back. “Hey, I’ve got a casserole for you guys in the fridge that just needs reheating.”

“Got it,” Becky insisted, practically pushing them out the door. “Now, go!”

There was a chorus of  _ have a good time _ and  _ love you _ ’s as they left. Once the door was closed behind them, Jenna linked arms with Jim.

“Hi,” he beamed at her, eyes sparkling even in the dim twilight.

She beamed back. “Hi.”

“Ready?”

“I don’t know,” Jenna teased. “What’s this about your ‘honorable’ intentions?”

“Oh, they're honorable,” he assured. Then he lowered his voice, “Until we go back to my place and you give me the green light to ravish you silly.”

She leaned over and whispered in his ear as they eased down the walkway toward the driveway and Jim’s car. “You have the green light.”

“Good,” he uttered, letting go of her arm and letting his hand rest on the small of her back. “Because that dress is sinful.”

She smirked. “You haven’t seen what’s underneath it yet.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he murmured under his breath.

“That’s the plan.”

 

* * *

 

Jim’s apartment was quiet and dark. Still. They hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on when he let them in, and they hadn't made it to the bed. Dinner had been a light affair, a refreshing 180 from where the week had started. Jim had taken her to the Blue Raven, one of the finer dining establishments in town. It was a luxury they could barely afford and were way out of their element with, but they laughed and talked. Really talked. About anything and everything. Wine flowed freely, and by the end of the meal they were itching to leave.

When they got to his apartment, they’d become insatiable. Jenna’s dress had ended up just in front of the kitchen, somewhere near Jim’s shirt and tie. The rest of the clothing followed a trail to the couch.

As eager as they were, however, they'd slowed down once they’d fallen back together. The lack of space and calculated maneuvering had encouraged even more closeness, and with that came a tenderness. No rushing. Just one another and all the time in the world to enjoy.

Eventually, they’d ended up with blankets and pillows on the floor. A sloppy but cozy little nest.

Jenna was breathless as they lay there, lips meeting over and over, hands caressing bare skin. She felt both lit up like a Christmas tree and as though someone had enveloped her in the warmest, cosiest blanket.

Actually, the second one was reality. Jim’s blankets were made of super soft wool, and they felt almost as incredible on her skin as his fingers and his lips did. 

Almost.

Four months since they’d found one another again, and she still had trouble comprehending that  _ this _ is where they were. 

Best friends for twenty years. A decade of that time not speaking to one another, only to pick up exactly where they left off. One divorced, the other a single parent. And now here they were, going on fancy dates above their station and making love in the dark on his living room floor.

When the hell had this happened? When the hell had they decided this life made any sense?

“It’s too good to be true…” Jenna found herself whispering into the air as she lay against his chest.

Jim lifted his head and muttered, “Hmmm?”

“This is too good to be true,” she repeated, louder. He didn't ask for elaboration, but she felt compelled to explain, “Me and you.”

“You can say that again,” he concurred. Only he threw her for a loop when he added, “You’ve always been  _ way _ out of my league.”

She chortled at that and propped herself up on her elbow, “What the hell are you talking about?”

He shook his head in astonishment and sputtered, “I mean...you...you’re... _ god _ , Jenna. Do you understand how hot you are? How awesome??”

He sounded exactly like the nerdy sixteen-year-old who’d been brutally shot down by Missy Clemons again, and Jenna had to laugh.

“Jim, since when has this been about looks?” she asked. “Besides, my idea of a good time is staying in, wearing pajamas, and watching movies with my ten-year-old. Last time I checked, most adults in their prime would call that sad.”

“But it’s not!” he insisted, rolling over to face her, hand grazing her hip and her side. “Geez, I  _ love _ watching you be a mom. You’re so good at it. It’s kind of intimidating.”

“Well, don’t be intimidated,” she told him. “You weren’t around for the terrible twos or tantrums in the middle of Walmart. Or the time Lulu broke her arm because she decided to sneak her bike out right after getting the training wheels off.”

“I did shit like that, too,” he countered. “So did you. It’s normal. You get to watch your daughter grow up and learn things and become this amazing person, and you get to be  _ proud _ of her. I wish I had a kid of my own to say that about.”

“You want mine?” Jenna joked. “You can have her.”

Jim chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Only if I can have you, too.”

His voice was low, the minimal space between them filled with steady breaths. Soon, Jenna was kissing him again and whispering, “You’ve got me.”

  
  
  



End file.
